


I Always Love You Like This

by kaikim



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Space, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Teleportation, curse words, minor side character deaths (not graphic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2019-08-28 08:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16719498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaikim/pseuds/kaikim
Summary: Chanyeol and Jongin can’t help but keep coming back together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2015 for the FortExo exchange and it might be the best thing I've ever done.  
> This is crossposted from [here](http://fortexo.livejournal.com/2135.html)  
> and also from my old lj account.  
> Title taken from 항상 난 그래 (I’m Always Like This) by Ambler

Chanyeol hates this.

He hates this crummy ceremony and his stupid robes and his tight, itchy collar. He’s supposed to be seeing off the space ship headed for Earth, giving the journey his princely blessing with his presence, but instead he’s staring past it at the smaller of Vangel’s two suns and squinting at the glare. The brightness gives him something else to focus on, something other than his best friend flying further and further away from him; he can feel fat tears welling up in his eyes but he balls his fists and holds them back. Other ten year olds might cry when they lose a friend, but Chanyeol is not a normal ten year old.

A band strikes up behind him, all loud horns and whistling flutes to signify that the ship is high enough to clear the atmosphere. The King and Queen leave first, and then the people disperse, headed home to change into just as colorful but less formal clothing and begin their work for the day, and cold terror grips the young prince’s heart. His best friend is gone. Chanyeol turns and runs into the castle and up the wide stone stairs to the tallest tower, sure footed after years of training to be a warrior. His heart pounds in his ears in time with his footfalls, and it almost sounds like gone gone gone is echoing through the hall at every step. He rushes into his observatory- their observatory, swings the wide telescope up to the ship, and sobs aloud. There, standing in the ships round window, is a boy holding a sign. He can’t see it in the scope but he knows those eyes are liquid warmth, wet and brown; what he can see are the words scribbled awkwardly on the page in overly large letters. I’ll never forget you, Yeol. I love you. The ship finally hits warp speed, seemingly snatched away into space. Chanyeol doesn’t make a sound as he crumples down to the floor, away from prying eyes and tutors who want him to stand up straight. He cries and he mourns for his friend in desperately, eventually roughly knuckling his tears away with small fists. After all, neither of them are dead, they’re just apart. And one day, he’ll be head Marksman, and he’ll be able to go wherever he wants, and they won’t have to be apart anymore. The little meal time bell sitting on his desk spins up into the air on its own, and gives three smart rings before settling down again: it’s dinner time. The bell in the town square echoes it and Chanyeol looks out the window one more time on his way out of the room and whispers his own message.

_I won’t forget you either, and I’ll find you again, honest. I love you too, Jongin._

╔╗

Chanyeol stood on the balcony overlooking the training ground he’d spent his adolescence practicing on. He watched carefully as the latest groups of applicants went through the motions meant to focus magic energy. Junmyeon, a local Sentry, coached the applicants through the proper posture of each stance. He was strict and demanding but it was in their own best interest; a citizen of Vangel could only Apply once, and it was imperative that the ability to use magic be shown. It would be a shame if someone held the spark but failed as an applicant because of improper footing. After a minute longer of observing, the prince stepped away from the balcony and into his study, balcony doors gliding shut with a crook of his finger. He seated himself in the chair he used to receive visitors and folded his hands in his lap. It took so little effort for him to animate the tea service into preparing two cups that he closed his eyes to rest. Warm water poured from the suspended kettle into two cups, the kettle settling just as a spoon of honey rose, making trips until each cup had been visited. Two flower heads were plucked from the plant in the corner of the room, passed through a small water bath to rinse them, and then landed in the tea cups to steep. The last of the ripples faded and Chanyeol opened his eyes just in time for his friend and closest advisor to walk in.

Jongdae paused at the sweet aroma in the air, and looked down to see his favorite tea brewing. Behind his friend Chanyeol could hear maids further down the stairwell gossiping.

_“Honestly, things have been horrible since the Queen died. If only the General Supreme hadn’t been so attached to her, then one of them could have survived.”_

“I agree; this consort thing will be the downfall of our empire.”

Jongdae shut the door behind him and flopped into the chair across from Chanyeol with a scowl. Neither of them mentioned the maids.

“I want you to know, really understand and know how creepy it is that you always have my tea ready as soon as I walk in.”

“It’s alright to just say thank you, Jongdae.”

“Mm. Fight me.” Pausing to take a long sip of the sweet flower brew, Jongdae leaned forward to talk again. “You know, you can’t keep ignoring the king’s summons.”

“I can and I will.”

“Chanyeol, look-”

“No you look, Jongdae. I am phoenix born with fire in my blood, and I Know a great many things. I Know. I Know who’s coming up the stairs to my tower, I Know when you have time for tea and when you’re in a hurry, I Know when over half of the applicants fail to show any signs of holding the spark and don’t get to progress to the fighting aptitude test. Just like I Know that the king wants me to marry for politics and thinks if he keeps it secret till we have an audience I won’t refuse him.”

Jongdae sat quietly, turning the tea cup in his hands. He watched the petals swirl in the liquid before setting the cup down and looking his friend in the eye. Chanyeol hadn’t changed posture since Jongdae had entered but he could tell the younger, taller man was getting irritated. He tried to keep his tone calm and neutral.

“It wouldn’t be a bad future, Yeol. She’s a good girl, from one of our better out posts on a good planet. They don’t have a head Sentry yet, and you’d do well there.”

“What business do I have ruling a city or being head Sentry?”

“You’re a prince, Chanyeol, son of the late queen.”

“I am a Marksman, Jongdae, son of the late General Supreme.”

Jongdae sighed as he slumped backwards, one finger pressed to the bridge of his nose. Trying to calm down before rehashing this argument, he looked around the room; though sparse compared to other rooms in the castle it was still lavish. The tapestry Chanyeol had woven when he was 15 hung on one wall, the scene shifting show various parts of the castle compound in real time. His various swords and axes all sat on racks in one corner, perfectly polished, clean and battle ready. The wall to wall carpeting was thick and lush, and the wooden paneling hiding the stone walls of the castle gave off a warm glow of enchanted light. Jongdae’s gaze came to rest on the small model of the Vangel Empire floating in the corner of Chanyeol’s desk. The planets and moons within the empire were all scaled to size, rotating in their orbits over the inkwell and fountain pen stand. The spinning motion focused him, and he inhaled, ready to try, for what felt like the millionth time since they were children, to win a battle of words.

“Are you finally ready to try to convince me of something we both know I don’t believe?”

“Shut up, Chanyeol. Why can’t you just go along with this? Things have been rough since our General Supreme perished trying to protect the Queen on their trip to this colony. The balance of everything in existence shifted towards Greater Evil then, and you know it. We won’t be able to truly rebalance things until the next important Moment comes, and we need the best Sentries out there watching for it.”

Chanyeol finally breaks his pose and leans forward, fingertips pressed against the table in between them.

“Exactly. So the best Sentries will keep watch. They will alert us to the brewing of potential Moments, and when one arises the Empire will need its strongest Marksman to go tip it for The Good.”

“Your humbleness astounds me Your Majesty.”

“Don’t address me as royalty, Jongdae.”

“But you are!” Jongdae tries to slam the tea cup down on the table but the surface gives under his pressure like a pillow, hardening again to support the cup when he lets go and ruining any emphasis the gesture may have had. Jongdae grimaces at his friend’s smirk, knowing he did it but not rising to the bait, “You are royalty. We have plenty of Marksmen who can tip the next Moment when it comes, but until it does come we all need to focus on pushing the smaller moments in life for good. It would do a lot to help maintain things if you would take care of these moments: an intergalactic courting, a royal wedding, a firm sense of order and authority in a far off colony.”

“That’s not my place Jongdae. The King has his own consort, a duchess, and plenty of fully royal children between them. Yifan is even older than I, and has trained and prepared to rule since birth. Why not send him?”

“Because Yifan is meant to rule here when the King steps down.”

“Then send Minseok.”

“Chanyeol-”

Jongdae cuts off as warm hands grip his shoulders and press assuringly.

“Jongdae, I do not wish to be a king, or a prince, or a ruler, or a Sentry. My parents were an anomaly- it’s not usual for the queen to choose to marry the head of her military instead of the co-head of her state. And I won’t allow the King to bully me into giving up my inheritance. I don’t know what is meant for me, but I know I won’t find it on that out post.”

Jongdae stares hard at his friend. The quiet stretches between them, and eventually Jongdae finds whatever he was searching for in Chanyeol’s face because he leans back and then stands.

“As your advisor, I can only suggest certain courses of action to you. I know I won’t convince you to leave, but it will cause a strain if you ignore the King for much longer.”

Chanyeol nods his understanding, “Tell the King I will meet him tomorrow evening. There are five bells before dinner; I’ll meet him directly at the third ring.”

Jongdae is out of his Warrior Prince’s tower and halfway across the compound to the King’s quarters when it occurs to him that Chanyeol is never this accommodating. He only hopes that whatever tricks his old friend is up to, it isn’t anything too wild.

╔╗

Jongdae stands in the corner of the throne room staring straight ahead. The King’s face is going red with anger, and Jongdae wants to only be a shadow in the King’s mind when the monarch explodes.

In the town square the bell to finish up the day’s work rang out, and the King’s processional entered into the throne room, arranging themselves as imposingly and as impressively as possible. His wife, the duchess, followed behind him with her own ladies and after she seated herself at his right hand the fanned out to stand at her feet.

When the bell to officially head home from work tolled, the representative of the outpost and the diplomat responsible for Chanyeol’s would-be-fiancée entered the room and greeted the King, before moving to line up along the side wall to the throne’s right. Every one of the members of the court wore smug faces, sure that with such an intimidating display, they would have a royal engagement to get drunk over by the end of the evening meal.

The bell to wash up for the meal echoed, and as one the room had turned to face the double doors opposite the throne and receive Prince Chanyeol, but the doors didn’t open.

The bell to be seated at the table pealed, and a low buzz simmered in the ranks of the elite. Whispers questioning the King’s control of his household, scoffing at the Prince’s disrespect, wondering who had the real authority in the castle keep floated around, and the King’s visage grew stony.

The bell to begin eating is drawing closer, and Jongdae wills Chanyeol to come through the doors before it rings with an excuse to pacify everyone. Chanyeol is stubborn and determined, but he’s never been a liar, nor has he made promises he didn’t think he could keep. Those facts alone keep Jongdae hoping that the evening can still be saved. The air in the throne room gets thicker and thicker with tension; the King leans forward on his dais, coiled as if he meant to launch himself at the doors.

_Deng…Deng…Deng..._

“YIFAN! JONGDAE!”

The King bellows, and Jongdae trips forward, racing after His Majesty, His retinue, and the Crown Prince. The group rushes out of the King’s keep and across the courtyard, towards the stairs to Chanyeol’s private quarters, all the while entreating the King to have some decorum.

“Your Majesty, please!”

“Your Grace, please consider your image, slow down!”

“Your Highness, calm down or you may lash out at the Prince, please!”

Yifan says nothing, and Jongdae makes no such plea, preferring to spend his time screaming in his head in hopes that his far Knowing friend hear him and run. He nearly runs into the back of the senior advisor ahead of him when the King halts at the foot of Chanyeol’s stairs and whirls around. He points at two of the men and then at another three and then at one more.

“You two- go check the stables and be sure he hasn’t ridden off. You three, check the flight field. Be sure that all of our land flight crafts and all of the starcruisers are accounted for. You, go check the military’s training grounds.”

The men hurry off to do as commanded, leaving the King alone with two of his advisors, his eldest son, and Jongdae. The King eyes them all in turn before growling out, “Follow me.”

When they get to the top floor, any calm the King had vanishes. He kicks open doors as he walks down the hall, pushing servants who move too slowly for his liking aside. Jongdae tries to attend to each servant who gets tossed down while keeping up with his ruler, flinching at the noise every time a door slams open. The small group moves after the King, past Chanyeol’s study, then past his library. His training room. His meeting parlor. They finally reach his bedroom, and the King kicks that door open too. This time, however, they all pause.

The normally neat space is tossed into disarray. Clothes are scattered across the bed and floor, books lie open, and drawers full of travel supplies have been upended all over the room. On top of the dresser lies a letter; Jongdae moves to pick it up, and begins to read aloud.

_Prince Chanyeol,_  
You are not my son; we both know that, and have known it for all of your life. Your mother the Queen, may she reign over celestials, chose her love and left me free to choose my own. And for that, for Her grace and Her beauty and Her dignity and wisdom as a ruler, I respected and loved her very much. We are all bereft with her loss. The attack was a tragedy and we never did find the perpetrators. My Prince- nay, My Marksman, new evidence has reached my ears. There is no solid proof yet, but it is reasonable to believe that a rebel group hidden in the Tora Quadrant of the Planet Jansp’s orbit was responsible for the attack. It is of the utmost importance that you move to the area with haste and investigate. I will cover your absence from our meeting, and see to the cleanup of your room. Waste no time organizing; pack and leave now in a solo starcruiser. Turn off the starcruiser’s tracking system; stay off the grid and under the radar so the rebels don’t hunt you down before you find them. I await whatever information you find.  
His Royal Majesty  
King Gongyoo, the Upright

King Gongyoo’s face pales with every word read aloud. One of the senior advisors snatches the letter from Jongdae’s hands even as he reads the King’s title, pushing his nose close to the paper.

“Sire… this is in your hand,” he flips the parchment over to peer at the red circle that held it closed “and this is your seal.”

The King’s instantly flushes again, and he shakes with indignance. “Advisor. Are you accusing me of writing and sending this letter, and sabotaging my own matchmaking?”

The advisor freezes where he stands, babbling to explain, not even noticing Yifan’s approach until the crown prince plucks the letter from his hands. The taller man reads through the paper carefully.

“This penmanship is much like yours, Father, but it is not exact. The l’s are wrong, as are the o’s. This seal is slightly off as well. They’re imperfect enough that you, or I, or mother would notice, but anyone you don’t write often would be fooled by this.”

At that exact moment, the six advisors the King had sent away return, out of breath and with clothes disarrayed.

“The horses are all here, Sire.”

“The Prince is not in the military’s sector, Your Highness.”

“Your Grace, one of the starcruisers is missing.”

The King thinks before addressing the room.

“No one is to know where the Prince has gone. It is critical that we find out who forged this letter to send him away, where he is now, and how to get him back without letting on that he’s in any danger at all.” He turns to his son, “Yifan, I need you to go smooth things over in the throne room. Explain however you can,” and then to his advisors, “Find whoever did this, and bring the Phoenix Born back alive.” Sure that his group understands, he looks to Jongdae. “Get this room cleaned up, and go through everything here. Try to find any sign of where he may have headed first. The Tora Quadrant is light-years in size and we need to narrow our search.”

Jongdae nods his understanding, and King Gongyoo whirls the group out of Chanyeol’s room and out of the tower. Servants come in to help organize things into piles Jongdae can sort through, apparently having overheard the King. Jongdae moves to work as if in a haze, truly concerned for where his friend might be.

╔╗

Chanyeol whoops in the cramped compartment of the control unit as he guides the starcruiser through deep space. He’s got a little further to go before he can turn on the autopilot without giving away his position, even with the tracking system off. The autopilot creates a trail of exhaust that looks like a vaporous asteroid belt. He’s in the dark so no one can see him, but if citizens of the planets so near to Vangel start gossiping about flickering asteroids appearing in the sky the capital would be sure to hear of it. Secret missions should not be heard of.

He can’t believe he made it out in such a crunch without being seen; well, he can believe it, but pulling it off is still a rush. He beats his ink stained hands against the steering wheel to a rhythm in his head, and bits of red wax flake off his fingers. Chanyeol urges the starcruiser forward, putting more space between himself and his home planet. A beep tells him he’s finally gone far enough to turn on the autopilot, and he keys in his destination before heading into the middle compartment to sleep. The starcruiser completely misses the turn for the warp hole to Jansp. Blinking in the corner of the navigation pad, the destination reads Earth.  



	2. Chapter 2

╔╗

“Later loser! You’re coming to the graduation party; don’t fight me on this or I will bring you forcibly.”

Jongin rolled his eyes and hiked his backpack higher up his shoulders. He stood in the middle of his front yard halfway to his house, his face a picture of indifference except for the small smile trying to flick up one corner of his mouth. “Whatever, Tao. The party’s not for another two weeks anyway, and God, can you please sit back down? Leaning out of the window like that is dangerous.”

He faced the black hovercar floating next to the curb and snorted at Tao hanging further out the passenger side window in defiance. The machine was ostentatious, its body styled to look like one of those old school Maserati’s from back when humans only lived on Earth. It even had windows that needed to be rolled down, rather than the usual membranes that dissolved out of existence with the touch of a button. Byun Baekhyun was the only person Jongin knew who still had glass windows.

“Ah!”

Jongin was suddenly next to the car supporting Tao. Both of them looked back at the driver with wide eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. I hardly moved the car at all;” Baekhyun groused, “Taozi you need to sit. I didn’t realize you were that far out of the window. Besides, our hero Jonginnie will always teleport to our rescue; it’s fine.”

Tao slumps back down in his seat, the fingers of one hand still wrapped around Jongin’s wrist, and cut his eyes away from Jongin to his other best friend.

“Thank you for your apology Baekhyun. No, really, I know you didn’t mean it and I forgive you. I’m just happy to hear you say you’re sorry.”

“Fine, fine. I am sorry, really. I don’t want you to die and I’m sorry I almost knocked you out of the vehicle.” Baekhyun leaned into the steering wheel so he could see around Tao to look at Jongin. “Seriously, we are coming back here to pick you up at 8, and we’ll go find you a good outfit. It’s the last party before you officially leave the Diplomatic and Intergalactic Training Academy and even your parents are attending as special alumni guests; you can’t skip out on this. You are coming, and you will be ready and happy when we get here night of or I’m going to send Tao in to dress you.”

Jongin felt the slightest pressure increase on his wrist. He would have thought he imagined it until he saw the kittenish smirk pulling at Tao’s face. He pulled his arm from Tao’s grip and just like that he was at his front door, key in hand.

“I get it, I have to come mingle with the Academy so they can show me off and drum up more money or you’ll let Tao feel me up.”

Tao swatted at Baekhyun’s arm with a petulant huff, “Stop making me sound like a creep; I’m not gonna feel you up.”

“Taozi,” Baekhyun started gently to avoid any further hits, “it kinda seems like you wanna feel Jonginnie up.”

“I like clothes, he wears clothes well. His body is perfect for showcasing looks; excuse me if I get excited at opportunities to dress him in anything other than his usual obnoxiously bright blue and green.” Tao crossed his arms, ending the statement with his nose pointed imperiously in the air.

Jongin watched the car pull away from the curb towards the center of the road, Tao’s indignant voice fading as they moved further and further down the street. Baekhyun had only been driving for a year but he was already amazing at holding a steady four feet above the ground in free fly before reaching the magnetic strip that guided traffic. When they were out of sight, he let go of the energy he felt crackling around him. It rushed at him and for half a second everything was dark, and then a snap of light showed him the inside of his room. He was just unpacking his bag when he felt eyes on the back of his neck, making him turn to the door.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Jongin, I thought we talked about this.”

He returned to emptying to his schoolbag silently.

“Son, your father and I have told you to stop teleporting around. No one else on Earth does that.”

Jongin changed the subject, continuing as if he didn’t hear the harsh words.

“I’m going to the Academy party with you.”

Mrs. Kim stopped, surprised.

“Really? You never come…”

“Tao and Baekhyun are very convincing after three years.”

“Well, that’s good, sweetheart. You should be proud of your hard work; no one else has ever graduated at 17 in the years the Academy’s been open. But changing the subject doesn’t change that you need to stop using your powers.”

“And why should I, Mom?” Jongin turned to face her fully, not sure if the twisting in his gut was anger or exasperation.”

“I know I didn’t raise you to be like this, talking back and questioning adults. Let it go, Jongin.”

“Mom just this once, please, be honest. Why can’t I teleport, why do I have to hide it from everyone? Something happened to me that gave me these powers, and if you would just tell me-”

“No.”

“Why can’t I remember anything before I was nine? What happened? You and Dad are the top traveling diplomats in the Empire and your work is well documented across decades, so why are there eight years missing in all our textbooks?”

“This is the last time we’re having this conversation. Your father and I stopped working for eight years because we had you and we both wanted to spend time with you. There was a horrible accident, we don’t like talking about it, and this is final.”

“But Mom,”

“Don’t bother your father about this. It’s bad enough that we both left work to look after you and you still got hurt without adding on that you don’t remember anything.” Mrs. Kim pulled at the front of her shirt, tugging the hem out from where it was tucked in her skirt. It was an old nervous habit, but otherwise she stood firm and unwavering.

And then she was gone, and Jongin was left standing alone in his room. Again.

╔╗

_“My King, it’s been so long since we were able to just sit like this.”_

_Gongyoo sighed, and reached out his hand for his wife. The duchess moved from her seat opposite his in the study to the chair next to him._

_“I know Yeseul. Things in the kingdom have been hectic lately. I’m just as glad for this break as you are.”_

_Gongyoo pulled Yeseul in closer till her head rested against his shoulder. The embrace was intimate and relaxed, and Yeseul wondered if now was a good time to share her idea._

_“…You know, maybe I could help.”  
Gongyoo instantly stiffened and she rushed to continue._

_“No, I know, I know. You and Eunhye run the government and Sungwoo runs the military, but there’s got to be something I can contribute to my country besides children.”_

_“Refer to them by their proper titles Dear. You aren’t to say their names so freely; Queen and General Supreme Shin.”_

_“Even in private must I be so formal?”_

_“You call me King.”_

_Yeseul pulls away from Gongyoo’s arms and turns aside. “I suppose I should just go. Nothing I’m saying is reaching you. I’ll just go tend to our three children.”_

_“Love, you’re more than just a mother to have children and you know it,” Gongyoo sighs. “My focus is domestic affairs, and the Queen focuses on foreign affairs, but we work together to rule. General Supreme Shin enforces the laws we create. These are our individual burdens to bear.”_

_He tries to bring her back into his hold but Yeseul is up and pacing the floor, the wide skirt of her sleepwear overcoat rustling._

_“I don’t think you understand. I am not lady of the house I live in. I am not lady of the country my husband rules. The people don’t look to me for guidance, and the servants don’t look to me for the dinner menu. I have no authority, no control, and must fight to even have my husband’s time and attention. It would be less burdensome if I had some responsibility on my own to distract me.”_

_She was right. Gongyoo rose from his seat, meaning to say as much when the message horn in the corner began to crank. The box shuddered once, and then words poured from the large cone placed atop it._

_“King Gongyoo, to the flight field, immediately. This is an emergency. Her Majesty and The Strategian require Your Grace immediately.”_

_Gongyoo sweeps up his robe and hits the box on the side to shut it off. Halfway down the hall he realizes he has no shoes, but Yeseul is there running ahead of him to set them down so he can step into them without breaking stride. She shrugs on her own coat and helps him into his own without slowing down. By the time they reach the gates to the flight field she’s got her hair neatly pinned back and they’re both presentable._

_Yeseul steps back to let the heads of state confer. She focuses on trying to figure out what’s going on. In the flight field is a crashed starcruiser. A handful of the Queen’s most trusted servants bustle about. Yeseul sees two healers headed for one shed, and immediately run out to sprint to the starcruiser. It’s not on fire but it smells of smoke. Servants are crawling over it carefully, looking for something, when one of the healers notices something. It looks like a bundle of rags when she picks it up, but Yeseul has had swaddled three toddlers so they didn’t move around on starcruiser flights and can recognize the shape of the protective wrappings. This can be her thing, she thinks, and in her excitement interrupts the General Supreme mid-sentence._

_“Do you think I could take care of the family? At least, of the mother and child?”_

_“Gongyoo, why is she here?” General Supreme Shin asks._

_“We were lounging and she helped me to rush here, Sungwoo. I allowed her to accompany me, but I would have thought she headed back to the room by now.” Gongyoo stares down at Yeseul pointedly, and she can see she won’t be asked to help take care of any refugees that evening. She knows what she should do. She should head back to her quarters and sleep. She should wake up in the morning and not ask questions. She knows this is none of her affair, and that makes her angry. Before she can say something she shouldn’t, a small hand rests on her shoulder. She looks over into the face of her Queen._

_“Thank you for your service Yeseul. We won’t be needing anything more from you tonight. Go, rest, and if I find myself wanting your assistance, we will call you.”_

_Yeseul bows graciously and walks away, seething. It was all the words she wanted to hear, but from the wrong person. Had her husband, her King, has said them they would have been words of affirmation and acknowledgment. Hearing them from her Queen only made her feel condescended to. Queen Eunhye, the woman who managed to have both her love and her King, though they were two different men. She commanded both of their attention first, and even with Gongyoo Yeseul was always an afterthought. She reached her own chambers and dismissed her maids before ripping off her clothes and flinging them around angrily. She had borne the kingdom three healthy, fully royal, beautiful sons and everyone had been so pleased until five years ago when Chanyeol was born. Even when she had children first Yeseul was second to Eunhye._

_Yeseul sat awake all night by the light of her candles, mending the tears she’d caused in her clothes. At one point Gongyoo came by, but she blew out her candle and did not receive him. When he was gone she relit it and continued. By the time morning came, she was calm. Gongyoo summoned her for breakfast and was relieved she didn’t fuss about being excluded the night before. If she seemed less open of expressive he didn’t notice. He shared with her the story of the diplomat family that had left a nearby outpost in a rush and the crash landed on Vangel on their way to Earth- a woman, a man, and their three year old baby boy._

_“Chanyeol has already pulled the little boy under his wing. It’s a good thing too; the servants all think the child was thrown from the starcruiser but the scene doesn’t add up. It may be that the child teleported out of harm’s way; if he does have the spark then spending time with our own Phoenix will be good for him.”_

_Yeseul slowed in cutting her fruit. Another damned child to show up her own? “How long will they be staying?”_

_“We’re not sure yet. The Queen and General Supreme feel like someone tried to attack the diplomat couple for a reason. There’s a five year plan in place to care for the family here while searching for perpetrators. If all seems well then they’ll head off to Earth. Any news after that we’ll investigate ourselves.”_

_Yeseul nodded. She excused herself from breakfast to go sit in the castle library; Gongyoo offered to come with her, a surprise since he never wanted to join her. Just as they entered the hall, a knight rushed up to them._

_“Sire, Her Majesty requests you.”_

_“Very well.”_

_Gongyoo kissed his wife on the forehead and then followed the knight, leaving her to grind her teeth in the hall. She walked into the library and immediately headed for the back corner where those members of the court who fancied themselves thinkers and philosophers sat. She needed to build an alliance of sorts, and who better to control than someone who thinks they know everything?_  


╔╗

Earth was weird. It’s all Chanyeol could think as he walked around the shopping district. It had all the same technology as Vangel, but only one sun. It was clear that there was millenniums worth of history influencing the style of buildings, of cars, of clothing. Vangelion society wasn’t young by any means, but it was younger than human society on Earth, and clearly had developed all of its aesthetics in vacuum. The one thing that stood out to him here was that the young men didn’t cover their faces. On Vangel every man covered his face in public until he reached 20 and joined society officially and got a job. As he was only 19, he still wore his veil around town; it was stifling and irritating and he was happy he didn’t need it here.

He’d stashed his starcruiser in an abandoned field, dismantled its tracking and gps systems, cut the wires so it wouldn’t run and then put a glamor over it. No one was going to find his vehicle and if they did they wouldn’t be able to take it anywhere. In the event that someone did find it and managed to get it started, at least they wouldn’t send a homing beacon all the way back to Vangel trying to find directions to their favorite place.

His first goal was to find some clothing that would help him blend in. He’d brought his dullest clothes from Vangel, knowing that bright colors like he wore weren’t standard on Earth, and yet the flowing garments and loose hems still stood out from the straight lines and stiff material Earth humans wore. Chanyeol entered a small store off an alley. All he had was cash, and he’d gotten strange looks at the banks trading so many arc coins for won. Arcs were the common currency of the Empire, but apparently regular citizens didn’t use anything other than cards attached to accounts filled with won. Nervous about standing out, he was loath to head into a chain store with a pocket full of cash.

The sign above the store said Thrift; it was written in old fashion script with faux neon lights. Inside he found racks and racks of brown and black and navy blue and grey. All sleek and hard lines, the clothes still felt soft as he ran his fingers over them. He was in the midst of figuring how the sizing worked when he heard an intake of breath behind him. He turned around to see a young man nearly the same height as him with dark features, dark eyes, and darker hair. If it wasn’t for the way his eyes were sparkling as he stared at Chanyeol and the hands he held clasped in front of him, he might have given an aura of intimidation. Chanyeol knew he’d never seen the man before but he decided to play along just avoid suspicion.

“Um, do I know you?”

“Oh no, you don’t know me. We’ve never met each other before and you know it.”

This was getting concerning; Chanyeol thought the man was cute, in a “let me feed you cake and pat your face” kinda way, and really hoped the guy wasn’t there to trap him into going back home.

“Fine. You’re right, I realize that we’ve never met before; are you just going to stand there without introducing yourself, or…”

“No, no, my name is Huang Zitao, and you- those clothes aren’t from around here at all. You’re one of those hands on diplomatic students from the outposts, who take starcruisers and travel, aren’t you? Are you here for your culture immersion?”

“Yes. Yes I am.” Chanyeol couldn’t have invented that kind of backstory for himself if he wanted to. Most people would want to see his papers and certificates and talk about which teachers he liked best and which outposts he enjoyed the most if he tried a line like that. To have this random Earth native hand him a background on a silver platter was a stroke of luck he couldn’t have invented so quickly if he’d tried. This Tao kid looked like he came from money too; people would take him at his word and as long as Chanyeol spent his own cash hopefully no one would question if he was taking advantage of the boy. “I am indeed doing my culture immersion field project here on Earth, and I’m struggling but thing are going well enough. My name is Chanyeol.”

“Ah, that’s rough.”

“What?”

“Your parents- they named you after the Prince didn’t they? Hoped you’d measure up?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you really refer to him as the Prince here?”

Tao side eyed him, and Chanyeol almost regretted the question, but he really wanted to know. He knew no one would recognize him- he’d only been out veiled, but he didn’t want to seem too much of an outsider.

“Yeah, because he’s the Queen’s son. Do you not?”

“I’ve always referred to him as a Marksman, or Warrior, or Phoenix Born. He doesn’t ever really do princely things; I think Crown Prince Yifan is more of prince than he is.” Mentally Chanyeol patted himself on the back for managing to get through a sentence about himself in third person without tripping up, and fist pumped on the inside as Tao’s gaze relaxed.

“Oh yeah. I mean, he does all that too, and his work with magic and the military is the most expansive, but here on Earth we think his role as protector makes him more of a prince figure than anyone else in the royal family. He’s someone I’d trust to lead me, you know? Won’t ask you to do something he wouldn’t, understands the struggles of battle.” Tao spoke carefully, really trying to give Chanyeol a clear and honest answer. The look on his face suddenly shifted from thoughtful to sly hopefulness.

“Okay, look, I enjoy talking to you, honest, but you’re really tall and you have a great body and I would very much like to help you pick out clothes and see you try things on.”

Chanyeol couldn’t have answered if he knew what to say. The idea of him being a preferred ruler by anyone was unheard of and he was concerned with Zitao wanting to dress him.

“What?”

“That sounded really creepy didn’t it,” Tao pulled at his ear sheepishly and grinned, a light blush spreading on his cheeks, “I’m sorry. I’m in school to be a diplomat formally, but really I’m more of a social anthropologist and my main focus is on clothes. I really have an idea for a great outfit for you. You have money right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol mumbled, still dazed. Next thing he knew he was outside being pulled across the street to a white hover car.

“Zitao, wait…”

“We’re friends now, call me Tao. Come on, we‘re going shopping.”

╔╗

Three hours later found Chanyeol and Tao sitting on cuboid benches that were more concrete chairs than anything else outside the shopping mega complex, surrounded by bags and sipping cool fruit drinks.

“You know Chanyeol, I realize I forced this friendship on you but I really hope this can continue mutually.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chanyeol readjusted the straw in his cup and peered at his newfound companion curiously.

“You are the only person who has ever managed to keep up with me on a shopping trip without complaining about being tired, or hungry, or bored with hearing about the century humanity spent without pockets and how important it is we have them back. And we bought more than I’ve ever been able to buy at once; you carried so many bags!”

Chanyeol didn’t need magic abilities to know that Tao was subtly trying to steer him towards an explanation for a student diplomat had the stamina and upper body strength to move around so easily with so many burdens. Nor did he need diplomatic skills or training to redirect the conversation without snubbing Tao. He didn’t need any of these things, but he had all of them; he gestured at Tao with the hand holding his cup and grunted around a mouthful of juice.

“Mm, you did say you were a clothes anthropologist; pockets would interest you, huh?” he questioned, latching on to the topic least likely to end in questions about his identity. “What exactly does a clothing anthropologist do, if I may ask?”

It wasn’t what Tao was looking to talk about but it was definitely a subject he wanted to discuss. His eyes lit up as he set the bag in his lap on the ground and leaned forward. Chanyeol could almost feel the excitement radiating off of him, and wondered how long it had been since he had a fresh and willing audience ready to listen to hear everything he had to say for the first time.

“Chanyeol, do you believe that clothes have secrets?”

“You mean, like, magic clothes with hidden messages woven in?”

Tao’s grin stretched wider. “Oh those are lovely, but I mean unenchanted clothes: normal, everyday wear that anyone can own.”

Chanyeol could only shake his head, “Enlighten me, please.”

“If you could go to any planet or post in the Empire, and go inside any house you wanted, and you could look in any person’s closet, you could find their whole life story. For example, their job. Do they have lots of pants and long sleeve shirts made of a light material? They probably work in the sun all day. If you add thick gloves and mud covered boots, you’ve probably found a farmer. The material the leisure clothes are made of, how worn they are can tell you about their finances; or at least, about how much they prioritize their clothes. You can tell social status from adornments and number of outfits. And if you could get the whole village, or town, or city’s clothes together- just looking at clothes can show you a whole planet’s civilization; what the hierarchy of labor is, if farmers or blacksmiths are more valued, if there are a lot of clerks.”

“And if I wear to look at a planet’s clothing over a period of time, I could see how the people specialized and grew over time.”

“Right, and how that branching out of specializations affected social standing and wealth!”

Chanyeol sat back, amazed. He thought of his own closet, left in a disarray back on Vangel and wondered what kind of story the wardrobe told about him. Probably a highly accurate one, considering his well-kept and well-worn fighting gear, his ink stained sleeves, the magic threads and knots in every shirt, and the untouched royal garments in the back corner.

“Tao, this is all amazing. Is this a well-studied field here on Earth?”

Tao slumped back, shoulders curving in a bit.

“No, not really. It’s actually mostly just me at the Academy. They’re letting me make it my focus and count it towards graduation, but it’s not out of any kindness. Practically everyone thinks that when I finish I’ll just take over my dad’s hovercar business and that Academy is just me following a hobby.”

Chanyeol had just convinced himself to try and console his new friend, maybe pat him on the shoulder, when Tao sprang up to sit straight again.

“But when I graduate my dad’s gonna send me on one last trip before I “settle down”, and I’m gonna ask him to send me to the capital planet, Vangel.” Tao leaned even closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, eyes dancing. “Between us, I don’t think the King or any of his sons will care about my idea. But Prince Chanyeol- if I could just get an audience with him I know I could convince him this is important.

Hey, maybe, since you’re a Chanyeol, I could practice pitching my request for royal support and funding on you? And I could get used to working my diplomat skills on someone other than the kids in class?”

Chanyeol could only stare into Tao’s eyes and nod. He’d never planned on heading back to Vangel, never set a date. He had a deadline now though; he would be in the castle at the gates of the keep the very minute Tao arrived to receive him.

Tao stood up and stretched.

“So, Chanyeol. I kidnapped you and drove you here, and, as a thank you, I will drive you to wherever you’re staying so you don’t have to carry all these bags there. It’s the least I could do.”

“Actually, I haven’t check in anywhere yet. I really did just get to the city and I felt so self-conscious in these clothes that I went to that Thrift store before I even checked in anywhere. Any inn or hotel that you suggest would be greatly appreciated.”

Tao stared down at Chanyeol, mouth open and face aghast.

“Nonsense. An inn- never in my life have I- you will stay with me and that’s final.”

“As grateful as I am for the hospitality, I couldn’t possibly intrude on you and your family; you stay with your father, correct?”

“Not at all, I live on my own and it’s no intrusion if I invite you.”

“You are inviting a total stranger to live with you, and while I know that I’m harmless, I can’t in good faith let you make such a rash decision. Just put me up in a nice hotel and you can visit me as you like”

Chanyeol was standing now, and gathering his purchases to him. He paused, Tao’s hand resting on his arm. He looked over into eyes dark and fierce; suddenly Chanyeol was reminded of how close to intimidating Tao had seemed when they first met.

“Look. I have friends, two best friends at that. But one of them lives a life full of secrets he doesn’t even understand and the other is every inch the spoiled rich boy you probably thought I was when we met-”

“Hey, I didn’t-”

“Let me finish. You did and that’s fine. I love both my friends dearly, and we’re all rich, but they come from generations of money. My father worked for it. Both of them will probably end up diplomats who don’t need to travel, stationed in one place on an already stabilized post and sending in peace reports one a year. I’m going to have to work; I _want to work._ ” Tao took a determined step into Chanyeol’s personal space, his face an open book of emotions.

“Today was the first time in a long time I’ve been able to teach a fresh audience, and the first time I’ve ever felt like I was sharing for fun and not to prove that what I care about is worth it. I know my friends support me and would never judge me, but sometimes they don’t _get it._ I feel like you do.”

“Oh, trust me I don’t.”

“If you didn’t, today wouldn’t have gone as well as it did. Please, Chanyeol? Just stay with me; my house is lonely. If it makes you feel better I’ll rent you the extra bedroom.”

They both stood there in silence, one pensive and one hopeful. Finally Chanyeol spoke.

“You promise to charge me like a real renter and not something that amounts to pennies a day?”

“I swear.”

“Alright, take me home. We’re drawing up a formal contract for this.”

Tao only smiled and grabbed a handful of bags before heading to the car.


	3. Chapter 3

╔╗

_The past few weeks had been busy ones for Yeseul. That refugee family had apparently brought bad news with them, troubling tales of anarchy and dissent in far off colonies they’d visited for progress reports. Between digging up information on the troublemakers who were purposely spoiling moments and Moments alike in an attempt to destroy the Empire and building her own group of loyal court members fed up with Queen Eunhye, Yeseul had had hardly a moment to stew over her husband’s continued distance. Occasionally she felt guilty for how close to treason she tread, but those feelings never lasted long, especially when she considered Gongyoo’s neglect. Even now, he was off in his quarters working on documents for the General Supreme while Yeseul forsook her first meal of the day to play disciplinarian._

_She’d woken and dressed, and instead of coming out of her rooms to sit and eat she’d followed the sound of her oldest son sternly reprimanding two other boys and Chanyeol yelling._

_“I understand that you weren’t raised in the castle, Jongin, but you’ve been here for two months now. It’s time you learn how to behave. Chanyeol, you have no excuse. You know better and you should be striving to teach Jongin to act with decorum, not running about like common village children.”_

_“You’re not the boss of me, or Nini Yifan! You can’t tell us what to do.” Five year old Chanyeol stared hard up at the ten year old in front of him, not at all phased by the height difference._

_“As the Crown Prince and your older brother-”_

_“I’m a prince too! And you can’t call yourself my brother because you aren’t my brother by blood or by actions. Brothers are nice Yifan, and you’re not at all. You followed us around all morning, yelling when we played outside, yelling when we play inside. You just want to make Nini cry!”_

_Yeseul looked at the short toddler hiding behind Chanyeol, and sure enough, the little boy was glassy eyed, his lower lip stuck out in a pout._

_“Chan, don’t yell. Please.” Jongin wrapped his small hand around Chanyeol’s wrist, pressing his thumb into the center of Chanyeol’s palm._

_The small voice brought an instant change in the five year old’s demeanor. He turned to Jongin quickly to pet at his hair, apologizing in a whisper for getting upset. Jongin only shook his head before screwing up his face. Afraid the boy would start wailing, Yeseul stepped forward once, and then Jongin and Chanyeol were gone, snapped up in a crackle of air. Yifan sighed as if this wasn’t the first time the two had abandoned his highly important etiquette lessons and strode off to find the boys again._

_The conflict finally resolved, Yeseul returned to her breakfast and made a mental note to speak to the King about Jongin and Chanyeol’s behavior. An hour later she watched as servants cleared away the last of her breakfast dishes before heading over to her husband’s personal quarters. The guard at his door saw her approaching and announced her to the King; by the time she reached the end of the hall that led to the King’s study he’d already granted her entrance, the large brown double doors swinging wide open. She found him seated at his desk, fingers stained with ink and parchments spread around him. There was nothing dignified or regal in the mess cluttered around him but the way he concentrated on the task before him and the utter focus in his eyes was without a doubt the manner of a king hard at work, and warmth bloomed in the Duchess’s chest at the thought that only she could see this. His image stayed intact at all times in public, even with the Queen and the General Supreme, but for her no aspect of Gongyoo was hidden. He finished whatever it was he was reading, adding a few extra notes to the margins before looking up at his wife with a fond smile._

_“Hello, Dear. How are you this morning?”_

_“I’m quite well, my King, thank you. You did not come to breakfast this morning so I decided to come see that you were alright.”_

_“I’m fine, Yeseul,” Gongyoo grinned, “just a little busy.” He gestured at the seat across from him, in front of the desk. “Will you be staying, Darling? Have a seat.”_

_Yeseul declined gently._

_“No, thank you. I’m headed to the royal library now.”_

_Gongyoo paused in his work to honestly consider his wife._

_“You spend so much time in there recently. I’m glad you found something to occupy your time. Maybe I should appoint you official Historian, have the librarians all report to you with concerns about the books.”_

_The comment was offhanded, more to test the waters than anything else. King Gongyoo wasn’t disappointed, though; Yeseul’s reaction was every bit of what he had expected. Her eyes widened and her face opened up; her normally upright posture loosened and it only made her seem to stand taller._

_“My King…”_

_“Historian wouldn’t be just looking after the librarians though. The scribes who write the books and the weavers who make the story telling tapestries and the visionaries who read the past and present in pools of water, all of them would be your responsibility. Would you like to try that?”_

_Yeseul lowered herself into a deep bow, one arm extended forward towards Gongyoo, palm down._

_“I would be honored to serve the Empire in such a way.”_

_“Alright, then. I’ll see it done.”_

_Yeseul left the King’s quarters with a serene smile, greeting the guards as she left. She walked on towards the library, and as soon as they were all behind her one corner of her mouth slid down till all that was left of the sincere smile was a salacious smirk._

_Yeseul stood at the head of a table sequestered away in the back of the library. She looked around the table. Lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, military officials, and people from every rank of the royal court looked back at her. All of them brought to her table out of spite for the Queen or General Supreme, all of them permitted to stay because of their loyalty to her and the King. Their continued attendance also hinged nicely on the well-kept secrets she held over each of them. There would be no betrayal from these, her chosen._

_“Good morning, my brothers, my sisters in arms. Today I’d like to introduce you to a friend.”_

_A man with long black hair, strong brows, and the darkest eyes the court members had ever seen came forward from the shadows. He stood directly behind Duchess Yeseul and to her left._

_“This is Lee Soohyuk, head of the anarchist team that brought low that refugee family. We’re going to help him and his crew lay low during the five year investigation. In return,” Yeseul paused to look around again, mouth curling into a snarl, her pretty face deformed with malice, “he’s going to help us kill the Queen.”_

╔╗

Tao woke up to clattering and shuffling. He smelled something sweet and spicy in the air and sat up. The events of the previous day came back to him and he shrugged himself out of bed, wondering what his new house guest could possibly be doing. He walked into the kitchen just in time to see Chanyeol standing in front of the stove, spooning thick oatmeal out of the pot and into a bowl. On the counter next to him sat an already filled bowl and two small plates of fruit. He smiled over his shoulder as he took both bowls of hot cereal in hand before turning to head to the table.

“Morning! Could you grab the fruit and bring it over here? Coffee’s on, if you want some later.”

If Tao had been half asleep when he shambled into the kitchen, he was fully awake now, sitting across his breakfast table from Chanyeol.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such amazing treatment, but whatever it was, let me know so I can do it again.”

“Please,” Chanyeol laughed, “all I did was prepare some of the food you already had in the kitchen.”

“Please be my friend forever.”

“Well-”

The front door slammed open. “I smell something delicious and that is so strange.”

Chanyeol jumped up into a defensive stance immediately but relaxed when he noticed Tao hadn’t moved at all. His host only swallowed his current mouthful and reached to spoon up another while speaking to the intruder, eyes focused on his plate.

“Hi, Baekhyun.”

This Baekhyun didn’t answer Tao which Chanyeol could understand, considering the small man was busy being shocked by Chanyeol’s presence. Or maybe he was still hung up on the delicious food’s presence.

“Taozi? You are aware that there is another man at the table with you, right?”

“Yes, I am perfectly aware.” Tao tossed the last of his berries into his bowl and then finished his meal in off in about two more bites before standing and turning to face Baekhyun with a smile. “Hello, Baekhyun, thank you for barging in to see me this morning. I’d like you to meet Chanyeol; he’s the outpost student I met yesterday. He doesn’t have a place to live yet, so I let him stay over.

Chanyeol, this is my friend Baekhyun. I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s pretty terrible and really rude and, as I’m sure you noticed from his entrance, his behavior is actually trash, but he’s my favorite, terrible, rude piece of trash and a brother I love dearly. Let’s all get along, yeah?”

Baekhyun quickly relaxed and smiled brightly, waving at Chanyeol.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you! I have no idea why Tao invited you into his home for the night after knowing you for a few hours, but its morning and neither of you are dead and you cooked a beautiful breakfast, so I suppose he’s right to trust you.”

Chanyeol watched bewilderedly as Baekhyun strode across the room to fling open a living room window.

“Get up here; Taozi disappeared yesterday because of some guy, and he’s still here. Come say hi!”

“Now wait a minute,” Chanyeol wasn’t really sure what he was objecting to, but he could only stare in silent awe as the room changed. He watched blue sparks of magic flow from everything around the room towards a dark spot floating in the air in one corner. It was like a black hole for magic, some sort of gravity pulling power in till there was enough energy for the lump to expand into a silhouette.

The figure in the corner solidified, and turned to look at Chanyeol who felt his knees go weak. He lowered himself back down into his kitchen chair before his legs gave out beneath him, scared to speak. Neither Tao nor Baekhyun knew him well enough to notice his discomfort. The man in the corner looked back and forth between his two friends.

“So, is anyone gonna do introductions, or…?”

Chanyeol wanted to cry. The boy didn’t remember.

“Taozi, he’s your houseguest, you do the honors.”

“Eh-hem. Chanyeol, this is Jongin. Jongin, Chanyeol.”

Jongin nodded at Chanyeol, face bright and curious.

“Hello, Chanyeol. Nice to meet you.”

It was all Chanyeol could do to sit on his own hands and stop himself from reaching out to grab at this ghost from his dreams. His throat worked like he was trying to swallow around the thickest honey before he could answer.

“Hi, Jongin.”

╔╗

Jongin grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into the pocket of his coat. Patting himself down one final time in front of the mirror to be sure that he had everything and looked alright, he decided it was time to go. There was a cursory glance up and down the hall to be sure no one was coming before shutting and locking his bedroom door so he could teleport to the Academy Library in peace. Jongin’d agreed to meet his friends there so they could all give Chanyeol a tour of the school, opting out of meeting at Tao’s and riding over together.

He’d started to wonder if maybe the man was an Empath and manipulating his emotions; it didn’t seem like the type of thing Chanyeol would do, but he didn’t know Chanyeol well enough to say for sure.

_And that’s half my problem right there_ , Jongin muttered under his breath before snapping into a back corner of the library, behind the manuscripts that hardly anyone ever visited.

He knew little to nothing about Chanyeol. Honestly, the man had never volunteered information about himself, only standing by while Tao spit out detail after detail about his life as a culture immersed student and occasionally corroborating the story. And yet, Chanyeol seemed to know everything about him. He guessed details about Jongin’s likes and dislikes far too easily, somehow aware of Jongin’s preference for bright clothes and open toe shoes and his hatred of overly sweet drinks. Chanyeol understood immediately that the best way to get Jongin to open up was to talk via written notes passed back and forth, and something about his presence was so comforting that just the day prior Jongin had found himself sharing all his concerns over his parents, his powers, his lack of memories.

Jongin walked through the stacks slowly, careful not to stir up the thick layer of dust on everything. Experience had taught him that breathing through decade old dirt was more work than ought to be necessary. As he got closer to the front of the library he started to pass occupied desks, individual students hard at work. Ahead he could hear the sound of familiar smothered laughing and faint shushes, and a newer, lower chuckle; it was obvious he should move faster, greet his friends and then drag them out before they disturbed anyone, but he had to pause and catch his breath when he caught a glimpse of Chanyeol’s smile through the shelves. There was something dangerous about a person who could make you feel like you’ve known them your whole life when you only met four days ago.

Guard up, Jongin stepped around the shelf into sight.

“Would you three hush? This is a library, for goodness sake; this is why we were supposed to meet on the steps outside,” he whispered good-naturedly, his tone exasperated but fond.

“Well-”

“But-”

Tao and Baekhyun started simultaneously, voices far too loud before Chanyeol cut them off with a bright smile with his large hands gently covering their mouths. Jongin felt his guard slip down a little.

“Baek figured you’d, uh, _show up_ , here in the library in a spot no one could see so Tao suggested we wait inside for you. The weather is kinda really cold today and neither of them wanted to stay out there if they didn’t have to.”

“Well,” Jongin pulled his coat tighter at Chanyeol’s words, “I’m here now. Let’s step on out before we get kicked out.”

Their little group had been walking for a while now, most of the campus covered. Baekhyun and Tao walked at the front and competed to see who could tell the most dramatic and embellished version of each building and landmark’s history while Jongin stayed back with Chanyeol and gave correct descriptions, slightly miffed at how easily he was drawn to the taller man. His irritation struggled to hold on like a candle flame in a draft, growing smaller, almost going out, and returning only to fade before gaining strength because Chanyeol seemed to be aware of Jongin’s unease and purposely kept enough space between them to keep the atmosphere accepting and casual. Jongin grumped under his breath; he couldn’t even stay irrationally mad with Chanyeol.

“And this, my beautiful houseguest, is our most hallowed amphitheater, a place of art and beauty where young orators learn to share wisdom and council in voices soothing and strong, a home to those with silver tongues and voices of gold, Celestial Hall.”

Tao would have continued, but Baekhyun jumped in eagerly to cut him off after noticing Chanyeol’s gaze on the large frieze depicting a woman in flowing garments.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed our magnificent stonework! See how the marble seems almost as if it were the finest of silk in her dress, and yet, also the smoothest of skin on her cheek. Yes, this is our Lady of Debate and Oratory, the great Queen Eunhye- may she reign over celestials. A fantastic speaker, a benevolent queen, and a skilled diplomat, her skills are an inspiration to all how come to these sacred walls to learn.”

Tao and Baekhyun began to talk over each other, Chanyeol forgotten as they bickered and walked up the stairs of the amphitheater. Jongin stood beside Chanyeol and stared up before talking in a soft voice.

“She does look very grand, but I like her smile the best. Even though this is only a statue, it feels like she really cares for me, like she’s smiling down at me specifically,” Jongin chuckled sheepishly and wondered why he was sharing unbidden again. “I’m sorry; that’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No.” Chanyeol pulled his gaze away from the large sculpture to look down at Jongin. “I’m positive that if there was ever a time when you and the Queen were in the same place, she would have smiled at you and your actions exactly like that.”

Chanyeol’s voice sounded strangely hoarse, and Jongin’s head snapped up immediately to stare into Chanyeol’s eyes. He almost flinched backwards at the affection he saw there, odd in its fondness and intensity. Something else about Chanyeol’s gaze tugged on his mind and he found himself stepping closer to peer into Chanyeol’s face and then look up at the Queen’s frozen visage. Jongin felt a pounding in his skull, like a battering ram behind some locked door and the longer he stared the more insistent it seemed. Right before he felt like his head was going to split open he looked back at Chanyeol only to see the taller man look away. Chanyeol stepped back from him, causing Jongin to realize he’d been holding Chanyeol’s wrist, thumb pressed into the center of Chanyeol’s palm. He let his hand fall away, but before he could say anything Chanyeol was grinning in his face again, the tension broken.

“Let’s go on in! I want to see what the acoustics here are like, and I don’t think Tao or Baekhyun have noticed our absence yet. We may be able to slip in and pretend we were listening all along so they don’t start over!”

Chanyeol bounded off, halfway up the stairs before Jongin could work his way up to a jog. The sight of Chanyeol sprinting away from him pulled a playful side he didn’t realize he had to the surface and he suddenly felt determined not to lose; it only took a second to teleport to the top of the stairs and stride through the wide double doors.

“Jongin, you cheat!”

Jongin’s foot skipped a step at Chanyeol’s whine. He’d heard that before. Not sure where though he brushed it off and only laughed over his shoulder.

“Catch me if you can!”

The two chased each other until they caught up to Baekhyun and Tao, skidding to a halt behind their friends and nodding emphatically when the two faced them with strange looks, urging them to continue their story telling. Baekhyun and Tao launched into an in-depth explanation of the symbolism in the colors of the décor and Chanyeol hip checked Jongin with a smug grin, chest heaving.

Jongin could only smile back. So much for having his guard up.

╔╗

The whole of the castle keep sat in silence. All of the servants stuck to secret passageways hidden in stone walls and underground tunnels, afraid to walk the halls lest the run into the King. Not all were so lucky. A select few had the terrible misfortune of being known to the King by name and called into his presence with increasing frequency; Jongdae found himself in this unfortunate group. Gongyoo grew angrier every day and nothing anyone said could calm him.

Yifan’s explanation that Chanyeol had accepted the engagement, but left to procure his own enchanted stone for the engagement ring according to ancient Vangelion customs, had satisfied every member of the court. The population noticed the absence of the Marksman, but rumors of him searching for his beloved’s ring stone spread throughout town and beyond. Everyone pretended to know nothing while giving each other knowing looks. Jongdae scoffed as he looked out the window overlooking the town. The people knew nothing, meanwhile every day more and more inhabitants of the castle looked to Yeseul for levelheaded guidance. Jongdae ground his back teeth at the very idea. Yeseul was not the Queen; she never had been and she never would be, no matter how much she desired or pretended otherwise.

Jongdae sighed. If there was one good thing to come out of all of this, it was the servants’ recognition of Chanyeol’s capability. Nothing had been right since Chanyeol disappeared on the wild goose chase for answers about his mother. His bright attitude, his discipline and schedule, his concern for each individual servant and their family were all what made the castle feel like home. The aura of his magic filled every nook and cranny when he was in the castle, lifting everyone’s spirits and imbuing the very stones with quiet strength. The high castle walls felt more like fences to keep everyone in than protective structures without Chanyeol within to defend them.

All gossip about the Queen’s consort and Chanyeol’s refusal to play court politics ceased, and with every day he stayed gone, the people longed more and more openly for his return. This was fantastic to Jongdae, and would be brilliant news for Chanyeol if- when he returned, but to King Gongyoo it was frustrating at best and enraging at worst. By now, he’d hoped to have Chanyeol on another planet and Yifan endeared to the public.

The enchanted bell at Jongdae’s hip began to peal obnoxiously. On the other side of the castle King Gongyoo probably sat in some chair staring at a map of the cosmos and waving a bell furiously. Jongdae knew he wouldn’t stop until Jongdae reached him, and so he took off, sprinting in hopes of cutting off the dreadful noise sooner. Even as he ran, he sighed. The King was going to ask him for news of Chanyeol again, and again Jongdae would have nothing to say. He hoped wherever his friend was, he was at least safe and happy. One of them had to be.

╔╗

Yeseul shot straight up in bed, ringing in her ears. She screamed and pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to block out the noise.

“Make it stop, make it stop, please- oh stars burning above, don’t let them kill me, they’re going to kill me, please-”

_-crack-_

Yeseul’s head whipped to the right, a red handprint across her cheek. She cut her eyes to her left side, she slowly turned her head left until she faced where she stared, her body shifted inch by inch until she faced the man at her bed side fully.

“Don’t give me that look. You were having a fit. Would you really rather I try to coax you from it gently; let you scream while I coo at you so all your servants can rush in and see me at your bedside? And with you so improperly attired?”

Yeseul huffed and kicked her blankets down before swinging her legs out of bed.

“Shut up. How dare you- don’t think you run anything here. I am the Lady of this house, I am in charge.”

She pushed through her bookshelf before moving to her end table, searching for the source of all her recent nightmares. Soohyuk stepped towards the bed between them and cocked his head incredulously, eyes darker than usual.

“Excuse me, _Lady_ of the house, is that what you just said?”

Yeseul stopped. There it was, on the floor, the small book of poetry that had haunted her nights. Bound in a leather so black it shone purple, it was only the size of her palm. It was thin, only eighty or so pages, but she’d never read past the first poem. Yeseul cradled it in her hands; even though the poem within ( _the prophecy,_ a voice in her mind hissed) plagued her reading it after she dreamed about it gave her a macabre sort of comfort. She settled back into bed before looking to Soohyuk.

“Yes. _Lady_ of the house. I promised you we would end the monarchy for good, and we will, but it isn’t over yet and as long as it exists I will be treated with respect.”

“You murdering, wretched woman, if you double cross me I swear-”

Yeseul smacked him square in the face with a pillow.

“Please, Soohyuk, spare me your melodramatics.”

Soohyuk could only scoff. Yeseul waved her hand in his direction while staring at the small book in her hands.

“Leave, leave, I need to read it again.”

Soohyuk headed for the secret door behind her large forest tapestry and wondered how long he should stick around. Inside the castle was the best place to dismantle the system from, but with every passing day the Duchess seemed more poised in public and more unhinged in private. It had gotten to the point that she thought a centuries-old poem that children knew and chanted for play was actually a prophecy of her death. How much help could a madwoman be?

Alone in her room again, Yeseul cracked open the little book and turned to the front page. Her fingers glided across the ink drawing of a fiery bird suspended in the sky, wings spread. A spiral of darkness pooled from where its heart should sit. She turned the next page and let her eyes follow along now familiar words, lips moving as she mouthed the lines.

_The wicked fox creeped in the stead and Greater Evil leered_  
The fox cut off the bluebird’s head and Evil spread its fear  
The fox tore out the bluebird’s heart and left its egg to fall, to crack  
But the bluebird egg was a Phoenix egg, and the fire bird came back  
The fire bird raged with flames the singed the fox’s soul  
And the Shadow of the fire bird swallowed the wicked fox whole  
The bluebird egg was a Phoenix egg, and Greater Evil weakened  
The Moment turned for The Good, the world for a new season 

It was a simple child’s rhyme, one she’d heard part of only once before. Years ago, she had discovered Chanyeol and Jongin in the garden passing notes as Chanyeol taught Jongin his letters. Jongin had passed Chanyeol a piece of paper and waited quietly. He had clearly expected another note in return, and jumped when Chanyeol stood up and whooped aloud.

_“You did it, Nini! You wrote the whole fire bird poem!”_  
Jongin smiled and flopped back in the grass.  
“I like that poem. It reminds me of us.”  
Chanyeol dropped down into the grass next to his friend and linked their hands together.  
“The Shadow of the fire bird… I am phoenix born, and awfully good at magic because of it. One day when I’m a big Marksman like my dad I’ll have fire powers, so I guess I could singe a sneaky fox. Are you gonna be my shadow, Nini, and follow me around swallowing up bad guys?”  
The smaller boy just laughed and replied, “I’d rather let my shadows swallow you up!” and then he pounced on his older friend and the two disappeared, snatched off to whatever new place Jongin teleported them into to play. 

Yeseul shivered as she thought of Jongin and Chanyeol. Who knows where the Phoenix born prince was at this point but as long as Jongin was alive, she was in danger. She knew it in her bones that she was the fox, and she called Soohyuk back into her room.

“Yes, _my Lady_?” he sneered.

Yeseul ignored the jibe.

“When I sent you after that refugee family all those years ago, you didn’t kill them, correct?”

“Of course not, we only blasted their home to scare them a bit and wiped the kid’s memory, like you ordered.”

“Go back. And this time,” Yeseul looked Soohyuk directly in the eye, “finish them.”

╔╗

Tao looked around his living room from where he reclined in an arm chair. Chanyeol was sitting at one end of the couch with Jongin’s head in his lap, absentmindedly eating purple grapes and feeding Jongin a few to Jongin. He still couldn’t believe that after years of Jongin hating every fruit Tao and Baekhyun had tried to insert into his diet, Chanyeol had found the one obscure Earth fruit Jongin liked. None of them had even seen a grape before, but apparently they were quite common on Chanyeol’s home planet and easy to buy anywhere if you knew how to ask. That was the only fact about his home Chanyeol had shared with them and they all latched on to it. Baekhyun was on the floor, flipping through a clothing catalogue with swipes of his fingers across the transparent touch screen. Tao was content. He had his friends, a fun new roommate who let him ramble about clothes for hours, and a party at the end of the week. He sat up in the chair suddenly, making the reclining back spring forward and startle the whole room.

He pointed imperiously at Chanyeol.

“You there. In five days’ time you are coming with the three of us to the Diplomatic and Intergalactic Training Academy’s annual year end graduation party. Jongin is graduating and we are all going to celebrate.”

Baekhyun sat up on the floor with wide eyes and clapped his hands together.

“That’s right, it’s party time! And I know just where you and Jongin can find two stylish and helpful people to get you all dressed up and ready to go!”

Jongin groaned and turned away from the increasingly excited and concerningly manic smiles on Tao and Baekhyun’s faces. It wasn’t till he’d rolled over that he realized his face was buried in Chanyeol’s stomach. He felt his cheeks flush red with heat, but when he peaked up he only saw Chanyeol staring at him with a bright grin. For a second his eyes seemed full of a sad longing, and then it was gone, Chanyeol laughing louder than usual.

“It seems you and I aren’t going to have a choice in this, are we Jongin?”  
“No,” came his muffled answer, “no, Chanyeol, we are not.”


	4. Chapter 4

╔╗

Music swirled through the air, echoing off of strategically placed columns that amplified sound, a design that made this particular hall perfect for parties with light music. This was the twenty third year since the Academy had begun using this hall to host its annual party and things were going well as they always did. Baekhyun slumped into the wall and drained the last of the fruit juice in his cup before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. He’d figured he’d spend the party with Jongin, Tao, and Chanyeol but the three of them were busy. He didn’t begrudge Jongin his time in the limelight; the younger boy seemed uncomfortable but he deserved the attention. He was standing up near the podium while his father gave a speech and his mother waited on standby for her turn to speak. Jongin was joining a legacy of great diplomats to lead the Empire to success at an incredibly young age. After all the turmoil his life had been through, turmoil he didn’t even remember, it was good for him to celebrate a little.

Tao, on the other hand, he was miffed with. Tao had abandoned him nearly immediately, dragging Chanyeol to meet the professor he worked on his clothing anthropology with. Baekhyun never was very interested in Tao’s line of work, he always made an effort to listen because that’s what friends do, but he knew Tao could feel his lack of enthusiasm. So of course he was going to go crazy for a new friend who was actually invested in the work he did; that didn’t change that Baekhyun was left alone with no one to talk to. He chose to follow his friends around the room with his eyes instead. It didn’t take him long to notice that something was bothering Chanyeol. For the past ten minutes he’d been jerking his head around suspiciously. Tao wouldn’t let Chanyeol alone long enough for him to focus on the speech, but that didn’t seem to bother the taller man since he kept trying stare down certain waiters as they got in position for the speech. Baekhyun narrowed his eyes as Chanyeol stilled completely, and then yanked Tao down and shoved him under the table just as the waiters he’d been eyeing pulled out pulse guns. Baekhyun dove under a table and peered out from the table cloth just in time to see Jongin’s father shove him aside and then jump in front of his wife, taking a pulse straight to the heart.

He felt like there was cotton packed into his ears, into his brain; he saw Jongin’s mom lean over her husband’s stiff body with tears streaming down her face. Her mouth gaped open, and even across the room he could see her shaking but it was as if he couldn’t hear anything at all. A flash caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and he looked over to see Chanyeol flying through the air. He moved swiftly, disarming and taking down the assailants. He moved too fast for them to catch him, sliding around as if he had full control over space and how he occupied it, pushing other party guests to safety and snapping necks of attackers. For the first time since he’d met Chanyeol, Baekhyun wondered who he really was.

An agonizing wail pierced through the muffled layers of his brain. Baekhyun and Chanyeol both snapped their gaze in the direction of the stage to see Mrs. Kim fall over her husband, eyes blank. Her killer stood over her, smoking pulse gun still aimed at the back of her head. Jongin was still screaming, teleporting erratically around the room until he landed on the stage and rushed at the murderer. Baekhyun scrabbled forward, desperate to reach his friend before he died too, and then Chanyeol was there. He disarmed the man and shot him down, and turned in time to catch a sobbing Jongin. The last thing Baekhyun saw before he passed out was the stricken look on Chanyeol’s face and then the two disappeared in a snatch of light to wherever Jongin’s emotions felt like dumping them.

╔╗

When Chanyeol opened his eyes again, he was on the floor hugging Jongin in an unfamiliar room. He could feel Jongin’s shallow breath against his cheek, but other than that the boy was out cold. Untangling their limbs, the prince stood up and took in their surroundings. There was a bed and a desk, the walls sparsely decorated. On the ceiling was a painting of familiar city view. Chanyeol couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he recognized it as the view from Jongin’s bedroom window on Vangel. He shook his head and continued out the door and down the hall. The only new information that gave him was that Jongin could paint. In the past three weeks he’d spent on Earth he’d realized that while Jongin had no conscious recollection of his early life, the memories weren’t all lost either and occasionally rose to the surface with the right colors or smells or sounds. Or with strong emotions.

Chanyeol didn’t get far before he was wheeling back around to Jongin’s bedroom. He grabbed the first bag he saw and shoved random clothes into it, grabbing things he thought Jongin would need. The Marksman could feel a faint buzzing along the edges of his mind, a potential Moment growing. For the first time in years he had no desire to meet it head on, more concerned with getting his friend somewhere safe. He wasn’t oblivious to the difference in his behavior, but told himself it was just taking care of a friend. _If it’s just platonic, then why aren’t you this worried about Tao or Baekhyun?_

Chanyeol cursed under his breath, “Starblasted smug inner voice conscious,” and closed his eyes and knelt down, fingers pressed to the floor. Heat raced through his veins before pushing out down through the house, giving him a mental floor plan of the house. He tossed the bag over his shoulder and gathered Jongin into his arms to head to a hidden room in the basement. Once secure he sat in the corner and let his mind reach around town until he Knew where Tao and Baekhyun were. The two were still at the remains of the Academy party, standing outside while healers rushed around.

_Hey guys. It’s me, Chanyeol. I need your help._

╔╗

Tao sank down on the stairs next to wear Baekhyun sat. His smaller friend pulled his coat tighter around him. It wasn’t that cold out, but Tao understood the chill that seemed to permeate their very bones. Baekhyun leaned into his shoulder, each of them supporting each other when a deep voice seemed to echo inside their skulls.

_Hey guys. It’s me, Chanyeol. I need your help._

Tao and Baekhyun sprang apart and stared at each other.

“Baekhyun, did you just say…”

“No, no I heard it too!”

_Alright you two, I know this is weird but I need you to focus. It really is me and Jongin and I are in danger._

Tao shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Baekhyun out of the corner of his eyes before closing them.

_Chanyeol, can you hear my thoughts?_

_Yes, Tao, but Baekhyun can’t. And yes, he just tried the same thing and I told him what I told you._

“Well then,” Baekhyun whispered, “what’s going on?”

_I think I’m at Jongin’s house. We’re in the basement, and people are looking for us. We’ll be safe for a while but we can’t stay here. Can you tell me where another safe house would be?_

“Why don’t Baek and I just come pick you guys up and take you there ourselves?” Tao felt strange talking to a disembodied voice in his head, but not weird enough that the fact that Chanyeol was trying to disappear on them with Jongin got past him. “We want to help you.”

_That would be beyond helpful, but if you come with us you’d have to stay with us. You couldn’t go back home; you’d be easy targets these guys would use to get to Jongin._

“We’re already targets to anyone who knows Jongin well enough to know his family and friends.”  
Baekhyun scoffed at Chanyeol’s worries but Tao could see his hands shaking. Tao extended his hand to his friend, not commenting when cold fingers wrapped around his own.

“Alright, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and I will swing by our own homes as fast as we can to grab a small bag. We’ll be outside Jongin’s in fifteen minutes, and then ghost out of here.”

_Sounds like a plan. And… thanks you guys. I know I owe you a lot of explanations. It means a lot that you’re trusting me._

“Don’t thank us yet, pretty boy,” Baekhyun grunted as he stood, “I’m still pissed. As soon as I see you and I’m sure we’re all safe I’m going to kick your mysterious ass.”

Tao raced towards where Baekhyun’s car and thought hard at Chanyeol.

_I can’t wait for Baekhyun to finish fighting you so I can have a turn. Stay safe, you starblasted shit.”_

╔╗

Tao finished stocking the kitchen with the dried foods Chanyeol had passed him. The house they were in had the automated food preparation technology that had been standard for generations but none of it worked at the moment; somehow Chanyeol had managed to take the whole building offline and off any service grid. They had no lights, no electricity, no access to the computer network. There was still running water though, and strange floating wisps of light followed them around the house from room to room, courtesy of Chanyeol. _If Chanyeol is even his real name_ Tao thought bitterly. The wisps looked like little tongues of fire but didn’t give off heat as they pressed closer to him, almost as if they were comforting him in his irritation.

Tao got back to the main room just as Baekhyun came from the back, three wisps trailing behind him.

“Jongin is in bed. He’ll be fine I think, he just needs to rest. He’s emotionally exhausted, and teleporting himself and Chanyeol all the way from the Academy to his house took a lot out of him.”

Chanyeol nodded and rose from where he sat to stand in the room’s center. He gestured at the couch.

“Well, uh, have a seat. Would you two prefer to ask me questions, or should I just start talking?”

Tao sat next to Baekhyun, perched at the edge of the cushion like he was ready to rush the tall man in front of them.

“I’d like to know the real name of the man who lived in my house for nearly a month, if that’s alright with you.”

Chanyeol flinched back at the bitter tone but he didn’t say anything about it, just stood there with his shoulders hunched in.

“I really am Chanyeol. When I first told you my name, you asked if I was named after the prince. In all honesty,” he stood up straight, his posture seeming to fill out until he was larger in stature than Baekhyun or Tao had ever seen, his head held high and his eyes hard and bright, “it’s not that I’m named for the Marksman so much as I am the Marksman.

Tao, Baekhyun, I am the son of the late General Supreme Shin Sungwoo and the late Queen Eunhye. I was born and raised on the capital planet, Vangel, and ran away to avoid the political machinations of the King. I felt that he was planning something heinous and left before he could do any harm, and came to Earth on a whim.”

Tao wasn’t sure if Baekhyun would ever pick his jaw up off the ground, and he was sure he looked much the same.

“So the fighting at the party… and all this magic… and how good you are with tech?”

“All part of my training, really.”

Tao sank back into the couch, entirely overwhelmed. Chanyeol suddenly crouched down in front of the couch, looking more like the goofy boy Tao had lived with than a member of the royal family, but he could still see it. That strange look Chanyeol occasionally got in his eyes had a name now, nobility, and once seen there was no way Tao could unsee it.

“Really though, I am sorry I lied to you both. I know you probably wouldn’t have believed me if I told you the truth, but I still could have tried.”

“Uh, no. It’s, uh, fine. I mean, thanks for breaking cover to save Jongin, your, uh, Your Majesty,” Baekhyun babbled, words slow and unsure.

Any awe Tao felt abandoned him suddenly with a snort at the face Chanyeol pulled, sitting back on his haunches. His whole face scrunched up like some sort of archaic troll doll and he let out a long whine far too high pitched for a man with a voice as deep as his. Baekhyun’s quiet giggle off to the side let Tao know his companion felt much the same.

“I understand if you’re all freaked out and think you need to title me now but firstly, it’s really not necessary and secondly, I kinda hate being referred to as a Prince. Marksman is cool, Phoenix born is cool. Chanyeol is best. Your Highness and Majesty and Grace all kinda make me feel stuffy and remind me of long days with stuck up tutors, so if you could not that’d be great.”

Tao couldn’t help the bubbly laugh he felt welling up from his gut. The evening had been an emotional roller coaster, and with all things considered, finding out that his friend was the Prince and rightful Head Marksman of the entire Empire was far better than him being a cheap conman or a murderer. The Kims were dead, Jongin was unconscious, and he and his best friends were on the run but the most magically, diplomatically, militarily skilled person in the entire galaxy was on his side. Tao slid off the couch to hug Chanyeol.

“Alright, I forgive you.”

Baekhyun dropped down on the other side and joined in the hugging. Soon all three of them were laughing through tears. They had all calmed down and were sharing their stories of what had happened after Chanyeol and Jongin disappeared when a low voice spoke up.

“Where are we? What’re you guys doing?”

All three men looked up to see Jongin shuffling into the room, fists rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Chanyeol was standing before Tao or Baekhyun could say anything.

“Jongin, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

Jongin froze midstep and looked up at Chanyeol. He stumbled backwards slowly, eyes darting around until he saw Tao’s concerned gaze and Baekhyun cautiously walking towards him.

“Hey, Jongin, you’re safe here,” the smaller of his two friends said.

“Safe here? What does that mean? Where are we, and,” Jongin gestured at Chanyeol, “who is this guy? How does he know my name?”

“Celestials above, not again.”

Tao looked up at the low comment in time to see Chanyeol’s face shutter closed.

“Jongin, my name is Chanyeol. I’m a friend of Baekhyun’s and Tao’s. I need you to think for me: when is the Academy graduation party?”

Jongin stared warily at the people around him, all leaning forward like his answer was the most important thing in the world.

“It’s in a month or so, why?”

Chanyeol turned away immediately, long strides headed for the door. He halted, one hand on the door handle. “Tao, Baekhyun, you two handle this. He knows you.” The temperature in the room spiked as Chanyeol’s hand glowed, drawing the shape of two pulse guns in the air. When the room cooled again he had two actual weapons in each hand. Setting them on the table by the door, Chanyeol looked up at the three other boys. “I can’t be here right now. I’m going out to secure the perimeter. Don’t worry Jongin, these two will explain everything. Open the door for no one; I can get in on my own.” And then he was gone.

“Nini, you need to sit.”

Baekhyun watched as Tao guided the confused boy to the couch before he started again. Tao sat with one arm around Jongin’s shoulders, face pinched.

“Jongin, the party was tonight. Or, last night, since it’s probably early morning by now.”

Baekhyun scanned the walls, just now noticing the lack of clocks.

“Wait, what?”

“Look,” Tao began, “the party was tonight. There was an ambush and your family was attacked. You really don’t remember anything?”

“What?! No! Where are my parents, are they okay?” Jongin was up and moving around frantically before Baekhyun caught hold of his wrist and guided him back to where Tao sat.

“Hey, hey, calm down okay. I think one of the reasons you lost your memory is because you accidentally teleported while your emotions were everywhere. When you landed in your house you were out cold; you just woke up.”

Jongin took a deep breath, “Why aren’t you answering me about my parents?”

Tao pulled Jongin closer in his embrace and Baekhyun sat up on the couch, leaning to hug Jongin from the other side. Jongin looked at their wet eyes, tears slipping down their cheeks and started to tremble.

“No. No, no, this can’t be happening. Tell me. Baek?”

The smaller man looked down at the ground.

“Taozi?”

Tao opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Jongin looked back and forth between his friends, and then shook his head.

“Don’t do this to me, you guys. Don’t let me sit here making up potential scenarios in my head, I’ll go crazy I swear. Tell me. Please, I need to know, tell me what happened.”

Baekhyun broke down in sobs as Tao choked out the answer.

“They’re dead, Jongin. Shot with a pulse gun. Your dad was first, and then your mom, but it was fast, and-”

Tao’s tears cut him off, and the three friends sat together, rocking and crying. In their grief, they didn’t hear the banging outside the house and were completely caught off guard when the front door flew into the room, blown off its hinges.

“Come here, young Kim. I won’t miss you a third time.”

The voice was dark and menacing. Tao and Baekhyun both lunged for the pulse guns while Jongin’s panic folded over into rage. He’d lost his parents, and a month of his life thanks to whoever these goons were. He wouldn’t let them get his best friends too. Jongin had never teleported other people without going along himself before, but he was angry. He just wanted his friends away and safe, mind fixed on the mountain lodge they’d visited together one long ago summer when everything was happier. The next thing he knew, the familiar crackle of energy was sparking through the room, but instead of feeling it pulling him apart from within he felt it beside him. He’d created a portal. His next moves were automatic, no thoughts at all as he grabbed Baekhyun first and then Tao, shoving them through the dark hole and shutting it behind them just as a long haired man with an angular nose burst into the room, gun up.

“Hello again, young Kim. I am afraid this is going to be the final time you and I are going to meet.”

The man aimed the gun at Jongin’s chest. A loud crack echoed through the room as a solid brick of light came down on the back of the intruder’s head. The man slumped forward, and Jongin saw the third guy from earlier (was it Chanyeol?) step through the door, eyes glowing.

“Damn straight, it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.” Chanyeol looked up. “We need to go, now. I promise I’m not evil and I’ll answer all your questions later but this location’s been made. We need to move before this develops into a full-fledged Moment because if it does, we’”

Jongin followed Chanyeol’s lead, grabbing at various still-packed bags and picking up one of the pulse guns on the table. The two rushed out the back door and into the woods. Chanyeol stayed three steps ahead of Jongin until they came out on the other side in an abandoned field. He came to a stop near a large clump of grasses; a wave of his hand pushed a large breeze by and cleared the brush away to reveal a small starcruiser. The doors opened and Jongin headed inside to lay down his things.

He had no guarantee the tall man guiding him wasn’t one of the ones who wanted him dead, except that Tao and Baekhyun had seemed to know him; in any case he’d end up dead for sure if he stayed put so he went along. Chanyeol worked quickly, reconnecting wires and plugging things in until the machine was up and running. He rushed inside and jumped in the pilot’s seat and lifted the starcruiser off the ground. Jongin watched, amazed, as Chanyeol navigated the craft manually, something he’d never seen done before. It didn’t hurt that he looked even more attractive than he did before working the machine. It wasn’t long before they’d cleared Earth’s atmosphere. Chanyeol thought of Baekhyun and Tao; with a chuckle he steered towards the nearest outpost planet. At least after this part of his cover story would be truer.

╔╗

Jongin sat on the floor of the small one room building Chanyeol had bought, eyeing the man seated opposite him warily. There was no light in the room other than Chanyeol’s fire wisps because the room was below ground.

“Chanyeol, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“So, you just carry around enough cash money to buy real estate all the time, or is this a special occasion?”

Chanyeol gave a humorless laugh.

“Everything about this trip has been a special occasion.”

Jongin stared. “There’s so much I want, need to know. I have no idea where to even start asking questions.”

“I- I can help with that. But, first, can you tell me where Taozi and Baek are?”

Chanyeol was genuinely concerned and it showed in his face and his voice and his posture as he slumped on the floor. Who this man is a mystery to Jongin, but he could tell he’s been around for a while.

“I teleported them to a safer place, somewhere we went once as kids.”

“You could have gone with them.”

“I could have. But I didn’t, and I’m not sure why,” Jongin stills, looking at his companion intently, “Would you rather I wasn’t here?”

“If I were less selfish, I’d say I want you to be far out of harm’s way and with your friends, recovering. But I’m not going to lie, I am glad you’re here with me so I can protect you.”

The sincerity of the answer seemed to surprise both Jongin and Chanyeol, the two staring at each other awkwardly in silence. For the first time since he woke up, Jongin wished he knew everything he was supposed to just so he could appreciate Chanyeol’s care for him fully. Chanyeol shifted under the weight of Jongin’s constant gaze and cleared his throat before continuing.

“What you don’t know, right. You, uh, it seems you’ve lost about four weeks of memory. You’ve graduated. The party already happened.”

“Stop.” Jongin pulled his legs into his chest and clenched his eyes shut. His head dropped to his knees. “Baekhyun and Tao told me what happened at the party.”

Chanyeol nodded, even though Jongin wasn’t looking. He didn’t want to hear about his parents again.

“That’s fine. Well. I’m a prince of the Empire, and rightfully head Marksman. I ran away from Vangel because King Gongyoo was trying to get rid of me and I only leave on my own terms.”

Jongin stares wide-eyed, his limbs going slack as all of the tension slides out of his body. Afraid that Jongin would melt into a puddle and cease to exist if he loosened any further, Chanyeol rushed to continue.

“But! None of that matters really because when I got here Tao assumed I was a student and I didn’t correct him. You, Taozi, Baek, and I have been hanging out for the past three weeks or so. You and I are friends. You just don’t remember it yet.”

Chanyeol continued to explain, telling Jongin all the major events of the past month. There was no telling how much time passed as he talked, but Jongin remained an attentive audience all the way up to the conclusion.

“And now we’re here, basically.”

Jongin stood up and stared down at Chanyeol.

“Ok. To be honest, this would have gone better if Tao or Baekhyun had explained, but I can’t bring them here. I don’t know you. I have no reason to think you’re lying to me, but I have no reason to believe you’re telling the truth either. Your story explains why my friends were hugging you when I woke up and where the starcruiser came from, but you’ve got to admit, this sounds pretty far-fetched.” Jongin planted a fist on one hip and cocked an eyebrow at his companion incredulously.

“The favored prince of the entire Empire snuck all the way across the galaxy in a tiny starcruiser without inciting massive manhunts and panic? And just plopped in the midst of my life and I went along with it? In the 17 years I’ve been alive I’ve only let two friends get close to me, but I jumped in with you from the start.”

Jongin started to pace through the small room.

“Even if this is all true, then that means you only told Tao and Baekhyun the truth after we got to that safe house. You lied about who you were and what you wanted for nearly a month. How long did you plan on staying on Earth? Were you ever going to tell the truth? At best, you’re a well-meaning liar of a politician who ran away from his home problems and allowed my friends to get caught up in the mix and at worst you’re a manipulating, scheming, lying conman who could be in cahoots with the people who killed my- who want to hurt me.”

Every word Jongin had said had tumbled out, piling on top of each other and building into a crescendo. He stopped to breath, and flopped back to the ground.

“Thank you for saving me. And for now, I will go along with whatever plans you have. But you will teach me to fight, you will let me have my own weapon, and the moment I feel it’s safe you and I are parting ways.”

The amount of calm in Chanyeol’s face was a testament to hours he’d spent in front of a mirror growing up, tutor poking him in the back until he could mold his expression to mask whatever he was feeling inside. At the moment he was heart-broken, but his face stayed serene as he nodded, agreeing to Jongin’s requests- no, demands.

“I’ll train you. You can keep the pulse gun you already have, and at some point I’ll give you a sword.”

Jongin’s brow pulled in, “Doesn’t it take years to learn how to sword fight?”

Images of a much smaller Jongin trying to balance a wooden sword in one hand, grinning at Chanyeol and waiting to be complimented, flashed in Chanyeol’s mind.

“I think-” Chanyeol’s voice cracked, the only betrayal of how he really felt before he cleared his throat and continued, “I think you’ll take to it just fine. Who knows, maybe you learned to fight in a past life and you just need a nudge to get it to all come back to you.”

╔╗

Weeks passed. The two switched locations every few days; by day twelve Chanyeol was teaching Jongin the signs he looked for before he decided they need to move, little clues that showed that the long haired man was after them. Every day Jongin made a little progress with the pulse gun and leaps of progress with the sword; no progress was made in rebuilding their relationship. Jongin stayed closed off and distant, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

At one point halfway through their third week, in their fifth tiny shared room, Chanyeol woke up alone. He set about making two cups of coffee, uncharacteristically drinking his black and animating the cheap wooden utensils to mix one spoon of sugar and two spoons of milk into the other. He took a shower, careful to stand with his face in the spray so he could pretend to himself later that he hadn’t cried after being abandoned. When he came out of the small bathroom, fully dressed, he found Jongin sitting at the table drinking his coffee.

“You’re back.”

“I am.”

Chanyeol sat on the bed and lounged, weight supported on his elbows, opposite the rickety table where Jongin sat.

“I thought you’d finally left.”

“I did. I went to see Tao and Baekhyun. They’ve left the mountain lodge. I don’t know where they are; they only left a note saying that everyone who ever had close contact with me is being hunted and they had to run but they’re safe.”

“They left all that in a note for anyone to find.”

“It was coded for me.”

Jongin set his handle-less mug on the table top and proceeded to drum his fingers across the rough wood. He looked up at Chanyeol to find the older man staring back.

“I decided to come back so you could explain to me why you said “not again” the first time I woke up and asked who you were.”

Chanyeol immediately sat up straight, face blank and tone even as he spoke.  
“Jongin, it meant nothing-”

“Nothing my ass, Chanyeol. Don’t go all princely distant-and-cut-off from me now, you don’t have the right to be irritated with me.”

“Why can’t you just let me protect you, Jongin? Why do you have to question everything?”

“Why can’t you just be honest?! Chanyeol I don’t remember you and I’m sorry, okay. I am so fucking sorry that I don’t remember what it was like to be with you, but I do remember being with my parents. They never told me about my life as a child, never let me ask questions. There are no pictures, no documents. Nine whole years of my life are a mystery and now they’re dead and I’ll never know why. There is a crazy man chasing me from planet to planet and system to system and any moment you or I could end up dead and I’ll be damned if another person dies and takes part of my history to their graves.”

“If you don’t like how I operate, then why do you keep coming back?” Chanyeol stands up as he continues speaking, “I promised I’d never kick you out but I wouldn’t make you stay either. You can leave.”

He’s headed for the front door when Jongin body checks him into the wall.

“No, I can’t! I can’t leave you. My family is gone, my friends are gone. Important events that probably shaped my personality are missing, and I’ve got so many random holes in my memory that I’m not sure who I really I am. All I do know is that for some reason, you knew that I could wield a sword.”

Jongin’s breathing heavy as he storms around in a circle, fists clenched and eyes glassy; Chanyeol could slip out now but he’s never been able to walk away from a distressed Jongin.

“I can’t remember if I told my mother I loved her before she died, if I was a mature enough kid to even say that out loud, but you know how to predict my emotions and my mood swings, things you shouldn’t know.” Jongin wheels around to snatch the mug off the table and hold it aloft towards Chanyeol before pitching it against a different wall. “I only drink coffee once every few months; how the fuck did you know exactly how to prepare it!”

He sobs, sinking to his knees and Chanyeol crouches beside him to pull him into a careful hug. Once he felt sure Jongin wasn’t going to shove him away he pulled the hug closer, one hand curling around Jongin’s neck to scratch the hairs at his nape. The gesture had always soothed a crying Jongin. The younger boy shuddered in his embrace, laughing through his tears.

“Celestials above, Chanyeol. No one has ever seen me cry before, but of course you would know exactly how to comfort me. It’s because of this, because of things exactly like this. How can I leave you when my head is full of holes and you know me better than I know me?”

Chanyeol didn’t answer, choosing to close his eyes instead and rock the two of them slowly. When Jongin finally stopped crying Chanyeol pulled him into the bathroom. He took a small towel scrap from the pile they’d accumulated traveling and wet it with warm water. Chanyeol washed Jongin’s face with slow swipes, erasing the tear tracks and thumbing the lashes of closed eyes, one hand holding his fringe aside. He took his time, memorizing the dips and curves of Jongin’s lips, nose, cheeks, eyes. He’d grown up a lot. Chanyeol contemplated the long held affection he had for the younger man; it had grown and changed over the years, especially since he’d met Jongin again. It wasn’t fair that he got to evolve while Jongin seemed to be taking more steps backwards than he could move forward. He set the towel in the sink, pulled his right sleeve down over his hand, and used it to pat Jongin’s face dry. Jongin opened his eyes just as Chanyeol stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He slid to the ground, sitting when Jongin called out to him.

“Chanyeol?”

“Just, wait. This is going to be hard enough as it is; I really never expected to see you again, or have this conversation.”

“Okay.” Jongin’s voice sounded a lot closer, as if he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, leaned against the door.

“Jongin, I knew you when you were little.”

Only silence answered. Of course, that’s why Chanyeol had asked for.

“You were born on Earth, but your parents were amazing diplomats. Earth headquarters sent them on a double mission to check progress and conditions on some colonies Earth humans had established decades before. You were probably around a year old, and they must not have wanted to leave you so they took you along. Things went well for about two years, until they got to one of the further out colonies. The provisional government there had turned to anarchy. All transmissions were jammed, and your parents ran to keep you safe. Their flight craft was tampered with though; they weren’t going to make it back to Earth, so they crash landed on Vangel.

We grew up together, Nini. When you were eight, your family returned to Earth. That’s why I know how to comfort you; it’s why you prefer loose bright clothing like traditional Vangelion wear, and why I knew you could use a sword. We wrote each other letters that first year you spent back on Earth, but then an anarchist plot exploded out of nowhere. My mother and father were killed trying to investigate the rogue colony and light years away on Earth a small cell attacked you and your family. You lost your memory, and your parents figured it was for the best, to spare you the trauma. Your mother wrote me, told me to stop sending you letters and let you live in peace, that she wouldn’t give you anything of mine.

You guys eventually moved, and I couldn’t get your new address. I was so sure I’d never see you again. And then I moved into Tao’s house. The next day you were right there, and even though I knew it would blow my cover, I hoped you’d remember me after seeing my face. You didn’t, but that was alright because I was busy getting to know grown-up Jongin. That’s how I knew about your coffee and why understand your mood swings. I loved my best friend, a sweet little boy, and years later I had the opportunity to re-meet and fall in love with my best friend. And then someone took me from his memory for a second time. I bet it’s those damned anarchist again. They can’t let me have my parents or you, huh?”

Chanyeol didn’t often cry. He’d cried when Jongin first left Vangel, and he cried when the news his parents were dead finally processed two days after the funeral. And there, on the floor of a cramped hideout that smelled of spilled coffee, Chanyeol cried for the third time. This time, however, warm thumbs smoothed away the tears that spilled from his eyes. He jerked backwards against the door, looking up into Jongin’s lopsided smile.

“But, you- in the bathroom…”

“I teleport.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Chanyeol huffed a small laugh. Jongin cradled his face in his hands and Chanyeol’s drifted shut as the younger boy leaned in. They didn’t kiss, but Jongin brushed the tears from Chanyeol’s eyelashes and cheeks with warm and tender lips. Foreheads rested together, Jongin sighed.

“That would actually explain why I feel so drawn to you, like I’m supposed to know you. On some level, deep in my head, I do. Every time we get together we end up joined at the hip, don’t we?”

“It’s happened twice.”

“Three times, if you count this. I told you, I’m not going to leave you.”

The two sat together for a few more minutes before they cleaned up the coffee and cup shards, and then fell into bed for a nap. It was about time for them to move hideouts, and they agreed that the idea of the anarchist attacking again was worth looking into but before any of that, they only wanted to hold each other and sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

╔╗

Soohyuk crept up on the cell house. In the past weeks he’d lost every member of the detail he brought with him to kill the Kim family. A low beeping sounded from his back pocket. He snatched the communicator out and declined the call, pointedly looking away from the screen. If he had looked, he would have seen the codename Nine Tailslit up insistently. Soohyuk knew he couldn’t continue to avoid Yeseul’s calls forever, but he loathed returning to Vangel without killing the boy child he’d missed all those years ago and returning is exactly what Yeseul would order him to do. It wasn’t enough to know that as long as he lived, the magic of his attacks would distort the boy’s memories; he wanted him dead.

And soon, it seemed, he would have what he desired. Soohyuk had no idea who was protecting the Kim offspring, but they were getting tired. Clues littered the cell house, proof that the two had been there, and more clues gave him an idea of where the two were headed. They were poorly concealed, but not for lack of trying. The room looked like the sloppy results of an exhausted attempt to clean, and it made Soohyuk positively giddy. So much so that when the persistent beeping started again, he actually answered.

“I’m busy, Yeseul.”

“We have codenames for a reason, you imbecile.” The little speaker crackled from where he held it a loft, Yeseul’s voice broadcasting clear in the cell house’s front yard.

“Hush, my lady nine tails, no one’s here to overhear.”

“You’ve been gone far too long. Is it done? Did you complete your task?”

Soohyuk rolled his eyes at the clipped impatient tone. He never did like the way she spoke to him; it was too imperious, too condescending. At times he wondered if she was ever truly for the dissolution of the Empire at all. Regardless of her intentions, Soohyuk knew his only hope for success was to remain within the palace walls, and so he needed to keep her happy.

“I haven’t completed it yet; I’ve got them backed into a corner. Tonight I’ll strike, and return to Vangel in the morning, and maybe then you’ll tell me exactly how you plan to aid my cause.”

“Yes, yes, anarchy, blood and fire and all that. I suppose that will have to do. Just be quicker about it.”

The call cut off and the speaker fell silent. Soohyuk moved languidly to his starcruiser, already arrogant with expected success, and flew off in the direction the evidence indicated.

Jongin popped out from behind a large bush just as Chanyeol released the glamor that’d concealed the two of them and muffled any noise they made. Chanyeol’s face was hard as pushed his palms against the soil, pulling the starcruiser he’d hidden in the crust top side like a plank breaking the surface to settle on top of water.

“That’s definitely the man who’s trying to kill me. But, who is the woman he was taking orders from, Yeseul?”

“The King’s wife, Duchess Yeseul,” Chanyeol cracked his neck before flinging the starcruiser door open and striding inside.

Jongin bit at his lip as he watched Chanyeol go. He still didn’t remember Chanyeol, and he was horrendously tetchy at times, but this was the first time he’d ever seen the taller man genuinely angry. _You still don’t know anything about this man; just because he clearly has feelings for you doesn’t mean you can take advantage of him; it doesn’t matter how sexy he looks slamming things around._ Jongin berated himself internally before following him into the ship, careful not stare for too long the striking figure Chanyeol cut starting up the ship. He should be used to this sight by now, but it still got to him.  
“Chanyeol? Are you okay? What are we going to do now?” Jongin slid into the first mate seat beside Chanyeol and tried to get his companion out of his head and talking.

Chanyeol stayed quiet, guiding the starcruiser away from the outpost planet in the opposite direction from where they’d tricked Soohyuk into heading. It took him more than a few deep breaths to unclench his jaw, and even then he still slammed the control panel and yanked at various levers to put the vessel on coast before slumping in his chair.

“No. No, I’m not okay,” Chanyeol scrubbed a hand across his eyes and turned to look at Jongin. “If that man is Yeseul’s goon, and also with the anarchy sect, and he’s here to attempt killing you a second time- this means that Yeseul is responsible for at least sending him on the first attack on your family, and either aided or orchestrated the deaths of my parents.”

“And she must be planning something else if she’s sent him back for me.”

“I’m not sure what she wants, but she needs to be shut down. We’re going back to Vangel, and we’re going to confront her.” Chanyeol sighed and keyed in a new destination. He stood and gestured for Jongin to follow him into the back sleeping area. “Come help me push the beds aside to make space. You need more training before we can go challenge the King’s wife.”

╔╗

Soohyuk circled the new cell house slowly. He’d made his way to an outpost planet neighboring the one he’d just left, quickly following the trail of vaporous asteroid-like clouds. The new hideout was next to a field large enough for landing and had been poorly glamored. Certain that no traps awaited him outside, Soohyuk approached the back door, easily breaking the locks. _Tch, amateurs._ The door swung open to reveal… nothing. There was nothing in the single room, no food, no clothes, no sign of life. Soohyuk noticed the door to the bathroom was ajar, and headed for it immediately, anger building. There was nothing in there either, accept a piece of paper hanging from the shower head. It looked like a note. Careful in case it sprung a trap, Soohyuk mover closer to read what it said.

TO: The Strange Man with the Long Hair and the Threatening Face  
AHA HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HA! HAHAHA! HA!  
Yeah, we’re not here.  
FROM: You Know Who We Are, and You Know We’re Better than You, Don’t You?

Soohyuk kicked at the door, making it bounce off the wall, and marched back to his own ship. He generally did well at staying detached from his… assignments. But oh, as soon as he found _these_ smug little shits. Jongin and whoever this supremely talented magical being with him was. He was going to make sure he savored their deaths.  


╔╗

Yeseul waited impatiently for Soohyuk to pick up in Chanyeol’s study, looking around her for a potential clue to his whereabouts. She’d just returned from an audience with the King- or rather, that’s what it was called. In truth, she’d had less of his attention than she’d ever had before. In the past he would split his time between their relationship and work, but at least when she went to see him he would focus solely on her. This time he’d hardly listened to a word she said, and when she’d asked what was bothering him he’d told her he was thinking of Chanyeol.

“Pick up, you starblasted rat bastard,” she muttered under her breath. She was done waiting on Soohyuk to find Jongin. Either he was dead by now or he wasn’t, and she needed to focus her resources on finding Chanyeol and cutting him down. She glared at the wall. She’d had his starblasted mother killed for taking attention or authority away from her, and she had absolutely no qualms doing the same to him.

She snapped the communicator closed and then opened it again, cutting off her previous call and calling Soohyuk again, and counted each low beep. This time, he answered after seven beeps.

“Celestials above Yeseul, what?!”

“Abandon your mission. I don’t care if he’s dead or not, you’re going to find the phoenix born prince.”

“Yeseul, I won’t do that.”

“You obey me! I am your leader, and I order you to stand down. I want Chanyeol found dead by Vangel’s second sunrise tomorrow; I’ve already dispatched my force to our third moon on the edge of Vangel’s orbit. Meet them there now, and I’ll be along in the morning to take credit for the discovery of that wretched boy’s body.”

She was met with silence.

“You? You are my leader? You were never going to destroy the government were you, Yeseul?”

“Lee Soohyuk, you listen to me-”

“Not possible, Lady Nine tails.”

“What? Yes it is, I see you in Chanyeol’s tapestry. You’re a few hours away from the meet up point, just head left and-”

“Shut up, you lying wretch. I’ve got the ship holding Kim Jongin in my sights right now. I’m going to kill that punk, and then, I’m coming for you.”

The communication cut off. Yeseul could only fume. It was fine if Soohyuk wouldn’t lead her army. She’d lead them herself. Yeseul turned and rushed towards the flight field, ready to take on the world.

╔╗

“…in! Jongin! Wake up!”

Jongin sat up to blaring klaxon alarms and red lights flashing, and the low hum of the Impending Moment signal. Chanyeol was pulling at the control stick, trying to maneuver evasively, only managing to avoid about half of the volley of pulse shots assaulting them. Jongin was instantly alert, strapping his sword to his hip and grabbing his pulse gun before stumbling up front by Chanyeol. The ship keeled and the floor slanted, forcing Jongin to grab hold of Chanyeol’s chair.

“What the hell is happening?” He pushed himself into the first mate seat and buckled down, peering out the window at the lone ship attacking them. It was sleeker and faster than Chanyeol’s starcruiser, almost impossible to see with its light absorbing black hull.

“It’s that starblasted anarchist tracker. It only took him a week but he’s finally caught up with us, and with such a lovely gift too.”

Jongin watched Chanyeol struggle to fly and attack, and made a decision.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the plan, Jongin.”

“No, I mean, I’m going to teleport over there and slit his throat.”

Jongin saw Chanyeol pause, eyes widened, before suddenly swinging the ship in a wide arc to avoid a new volley.

“Jongin, you can’t teleport across space!”

“I can, and I have before.”

“Yes, from one fixed location to the next. The way we’re moving around and he’s moving around- it’s too much of a risk, I can’t let you take it.”

Chanyeol knew he sounded frantic, pleading with Jongin to see reason. Mostly because he knew that with one hand flying the ship and the other manning the guns, he had no way to physically restrain Jongin if he chose to pop out of the craft. He felt Jongin’s eyes on him, could see the fond gaze out of the corner of his eye.  
“Chanyeol. We loved each other as children, didn’t we?”

“Jongin, please.”

“And we were falling for each other again on Earth, weren’t we?”

Chanyeol let off a series of shots, most of them wide but enough struck true that he could see the outline of the other ship more clearly.

“Don’t go, Jongin, don’t do this. You said you weren’t going to leave me.”

“I’m going; I’m going to do my damndest to come back to you, but in case I don’t make it you should know: I don’t know that I’ll ever recall our childhood, and I still don’t remember meeting you on Earth. But we must be soulmates, Prince Chanyeol, because in these past few weeks of hiding I’ve fallen for you all over again. We really do always come back together, don’t we?”

Jongin reached over and slammed the automatic pulse control. The ships guns rained compressed electricity out into space, and as soon as enough hit the anarchist ship to show its exact outline, Jongin crowed.

“Got ‘em!”

And with a snap he was gone.

╔╗

“What do you mean the Crown Duchess stole a flight ship?”  
“Exactly, that sire. Duchess Yeseul has stolen a flight ship, and it appears she’s going to meet a rouge army on the edge of our borders.” Jongdae fixed King Gongyoo with a baleful stare. Months had gone by without Chanyeol around, and the small advisor had long since lost any concern he had for saving face and demurring to the King.

“My wife is going head to head with a rogue army by herself?”

“Actually, Father,” Yifan cut in, “it would seem the illegal force is under Mother’s command.”

“By all the stars in sky, the woman has finally gone mad, hasn’t she?” King Gongyoo looked back and forth between the two men in his study incredulously.

“In all fairness, sire, you haven’t been much better than her recently.”

Jongdae stared down at the desk in front of the King passively, but inside he was kicking himself repeatedly. The King’s behavior had been increasingly foolish, to be sure, and Jongdae’s behavior had been increasingly impertinent also. That didn’t negate that there was a line he shouldn’t cross, even if he’d spent the past two months toeing it.

“Kim Jongdae, how dare you.” The King rose slowly from his chair, cheeks slowly flushing. He was angry, and the next words out of his mouth were probably meant to be some terrible punishment for the small advisor’s insolence. No one but Gongyoo would ever know exactly what that punishment would have been because before he could get a word out his son interrupted.

“Actually, Your Majesty, Jongdae is right.”

“You too, Yifan?”

Yifan stood from his own chair and stepped forward near Jongdae.

“Honestly Father, Chanyeol has never wanted the throne. He has never challenged my claim to it though his mother the Queen’s blood is far more royal than yours and Duchess Yeseul’s combined, and he could rightfully take it. All he wanted was to head the military, so why did you run him off with your constant attempts to marry him off to some low-bred nobleman’s daughter?”

Jongdae stared intently at the drapes in the study, sure that if he looked at the King’s flustered face he would laugh out loud; he’d tried his luck enough for one day. It was possible that even the bright swaths of fabric decorating the windows wouldn’t save him as he fought back chuckles brought on my King Gongyoo’s stammering.

“What? Yifan, I never… dr-dr-drove him off? I didn’t- he- someone forged him a letter!”

Yifan sat on the edge of the desk, and rested a hand on his father’s shoulder. It was the most casual Jongdae had ever seen both men and it was fascinating.

“Father, Chanyeol wrote himself that letter.”

“On every star that has fallen from the sky, what?!”

Gongyoo and Yifan turned to look at Jongdae; then Gongyoo turned back to his son, arm gesturing wildly in Jongdae’s direction.

“Yeah, yeah, what Advisor Kim said; what?!”

“I didn’t know it at first, but by the end of the third week I’d figured it out. I only noticed because the kitchen cooks had a menu “from the King” stating that they were to serve Prince Chanyeol warm cinnamon buns for breakfast every morning and again in his room after dinner. I compared the menu with the letter; they hand is exactly the same. At some point Chanyeol learned to forge the King’s penmanship, and used it to get extra desserts and to avoid affiancing a random girl.”

“My Prince, why didn’t you say something?”

Yifan shrugged off Jongdae’s question, “Honestly, Chanyeol should have been out exploring the Empire and getting a feel for our inhabitants years ago. I saw no need to have him brought back, so I let it go.”

“You didn’t see a need,” Gongyoo looked as if he were about to faint, one hand held out in front of him as his eyes rolled and then widened, fixed on the Crown Prince. “What about the family I prepared for him to marry into? Was that not a good enough reason to share?”

“Jongdae, tell him.”

“My Prince, really, it’s an honor just to be a part of this conversation; I don’t need to participate.”

“No, I want you to tell my Father what you told me six weeks ago.”

“Yes Advisor Kim, what, pray tell, did you tell my son six weeks ago that you didn’t need to tell me?”

“Your Grace, I would have told you first, but since Yifan was placed in charge of handling the public image of Chanyeol’s disappearance I informed him, and he said I need not worry you about it. The young woman you found had no desire to marry for politics. She was, is, in love with her head lady-in-waiting and the two of them eloped a week after the failed engagement event.”

Yifan nodded and raised one palm in a shrug, as if to say _See?_

“That was before I even realized Chanyeol had snuck off on his own. He didn’t go searching for his parents’ killers, and there was no marriage for him to come back to. So, no, I didn’t see a need to share my information, and as you placed me in charge of handling the disappearance, not sharing was my prerogative.”

The King sank back down into his chair, overwhelmed with the information.

“I truly, have no idea to do with all of this.”

Jongdae decided to try and toe the line a little bit more.

“Sire, if you would hear the suggestion of a humble advisor, I would say that you should probably send an armada to collect the rebel army and its leader, your wife.”

Yifan hid a smile at Jongdae’s cheekiness and the King’s heavy sigh.

“I suppose you’re right, Advisor Kim. Yifan, call the troops. We have to go battle your mother.”  


╔╗

Jongin opened his eyes but couldn’t see much. He waited as his eyes adjusted so he could see; the interior of the ship was dark, everything constructed out of obsidian colored metals with sharp angles and sleek lines. The ground was a black metal grate, the inner machinations of the ship and the engine visible below. In the center was a circular raised platform that was half ringed with a metal rail. The front half of the circle was walled in by a button less control panel. Soohyuk stood in the center of the circle, hands raised over the panel. His fingers curled and flicked, shots firing out of the ship in any direction he pointed.

Jongin knew he had the upper hand, but only for the moment. The second Soohyuk realized he’d been boarded Jongin would be at the evil man’s mercy. The pulse gun at his side was too risky; it gave a quiet hum right before it fired and he couldn’t chance Soohyuk hearing the noise. He unsheathed his sword carefully, quietly. It was bigger than he’d like, but it was all he had. Jongin waited for Chanyeol’s next volley of shots, hoping the man would continue to defend himself as if Jongin were still on board. Sure enough, the next blast came quick and continuous, knocking Soohyuk slightly off balance. In that moment, Jongin teleported forward onto the platform; as soon as his body materialized enough to make the swing he brought the sword down on Soohyuk’s neck.

His swing wasn’t strong enough; he didn’t cut deep enough for an instant kill. Soohyuk collapsed in front of him, the ship keeling with his movements. The felled man cursed at Jongin in a raspy voice, trying to talk around his dying breaths.

“You disgusting, royal loving, prince following sheep. You’re blinded by the government,” he gasped and choked on his own tongue, “and your shit parents were too. I did them a favor, ending their lives.”

Jongin’s jaw set.

“You have no idea who I love, nor how far I’d follow the prince. As for the favor you did my parents, please, allow me to return it to you.” He swung his blade in an arc, and this time hit true.

The room was spinning, and Jongin couldn’t tell if it was him or the ship going down without a captain to guide it. His vision went fuzzy around the edges; with the last of his strength he reached for the familiar crackle of energy around him, only one thought on his mind.

_Chanyeol._

╔╗

Chanyeol hadn’t quit worrying since Jongin teleported away, but at least he had the battle with Soohyuk to distract him. When the firing stopped he remained seated, staring at where he saw the guns blazing out of the space sky. He could only make out a vague outline of the ship, even with his powers. Whatever that ship was made out of was like a magical black hole. And then it was completely visible, matte black and falling, hurtling down into Vangel’s moon’s gravitational pull.

“Jongin!”

Chanyeol was ready to dive bomb after the hunk of metal when a dull whump behind him sounded. He whipped around to see Jongin lying on the floor, body curling into the fetal position as he coughed out blood. The prince carefully lifted the boy up into his arms to take him back to the bed space when a bright light shone through the front glass. Chanyeol looked outside and cradled Jongin closer on reflex. There in the sky hung Duchess Yeseul, backed by a small army of vessels.

The next fifteen minutes were some of the most nerve wracking of Chanyeol’s life. Jongin was strapped into the first mate’s chair, body trying to fight its way into consciousness. All of the sharp turns and corkscrews Chanyeol was flying in couldn’t have been helping, but it was the only way to avoid being shot out of the air as every other vessel in the sky unloaded on them. Chanyeol flew towards the moon, slightly to its left. He pushed the starcruiser to the highest speed he could reach, Yeseul hot on his tail, and dropped out of warp just as they got caught in the moon’s orbit. Chanyeol let the huge rock’s gravity sling shot them around the other side and kicked the warp back into gear just in time to pull out of orbit on the dark side. It was a small victory, as it got rid of the armada, but Yeseul was right there with him. She hailed him on the video feed; it took Chanyeol a few seconds to compose himself enough to answer.

The front window changed into a view of Yeseul’s face.

“Hello, Chanyeol dear. Oh look, and little Jongin too. He doesn’t look very good, does he?”

“You murdering bitch.” _Ok, maybe I’m not as composed as I thought._

Chanyeol faced a corner of the screen instead of looking at Yeseul directly. He could see her fleet making their way around the side of the moon. More importantly, he could see the Imperial Armada flying under him and Yeseul to go engage said rogue fleet.

“Look, the King’s men are here, Yeseul. Give it up.”

“I am a Duchess! Address me as such!!”

Her face was absolutely livid, pinched with anger and hate. It was sad really; she had been one of the most beautiful women on Vangel before. Chanyeol could only shake his head. Ugly insides don’t make for gorgeous outsides.

“You don’t deserve my respect.”

Yeseul glowered at him through the monitor.

“You ungrateful, disrespectful, conniving little monster. I should have killed Jongin the first time, and killed you along with your parents.”

Chanyeol cut off the video screen and turned on the automatic navigation. He turned the ship so its airlock faced Yeseul, typed in that the ship should head back to Vangel, and then made sure Jongin was secure before walking to the air lock. It was a selfish move, with no thought for Jongin or the Empire. All Chanyeol wanted was Yeseul dead, and if he died in the process then he died. He slammed his fist down on the red button. The ship ejected him from the hold, hurtling his body through the airless void into the arms of his enemy.

Jongin woke with a start as the starcruiser shuddered. On either side and behind the starcruiser, war waged. Fires sparked as ships rammed each other, shot each other out of the sky. Jongin was alone in the cabin; no matter how he called Chanyeol didn’t answer. He felt himself growing more and more nervous when a flying piece of debris caught his eye. He leaned into the glass, stomach sinking to his feet. It looked like a body… like… Chanyeol’s. The floating man suddenly burst into flames. He hung suspended in the breast of giant fiery bird of prey, its beak a hot blue and its tail resplendent white compared to the rest of its red orange body. The large phoenix screeched as it flapped its wings, ships melting entirely when grazed by the feathers, and then it dived down towards the main ship of the opposing army.

The display was magnificent, but Jongin couldn’t bring himself to care. All he saw was Chanyeol, there in the center of the inferno, body limp. Jongin wanted nothing more than to hold him close, to fly out there and pull Chanyeol into his embrace and then take them both to safety. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted…

He was. Jongin felt his skin flaking from the heat, but that didn’t prevent shaky hands from extending for Chanyeol. In the very next moment they both dropped down into a field, back in breathable air. Jongin saw people dressed in bright colors rushing towards him and then closed his eyes, curling into Chanyeol’s chest and listening for shallow breaths before he passed out again.

╔╗

Yeseul screamed when the phoenix erupted in front of her ship. She threw the starcruiser into reverse, trying desperately to get away.

_I knew it, I knew it, the firebird always gets the fox; he always does he always does he always-_

The bird was diving, gaining on her. She couldn’t go backwards fast enough. And then, like a nightmare come to life, her nightmare come to life, an inky black shadow pooled right over the phoenix’s heart and then exploded outwards. Her agonized wails cut off abruptly as the ship’s hull was consumed in fire. The bird disappeared, leaving not a trace of Yeseul nor her ship.

╔╗

Jongin woke up in a plush bed in a wide room, wearing loose pale blue garments. It was the biggest room he’d been in in weeks and it left him feeling uncomfortable and exposed. He sat up just as the door opened and a man in bright green flowing robes entered.

“Ah, Jongin, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Uh, sore and tired.”

“Mm, that’s to be expected. My name is Sehun, and I’m a healer here. You’re on Vangel’s surface, in the palace.”

Jongin jerked at the mention of the palace, stumbling to get out of bed. He didn’t make it far before Sehun was beside him pushing him back under the covers.

“No, you don’t understand, I have to-”

“Shh, I do understand. The Warrior Prince is alright.”

That made Jongin pause.

“He is?”

Jongin squirmed under the knowing smile.

“He is. He’s banged up and bruised and exhausted like you are, but Prince Chanyeol is fine. I had this exact conversation with him two hours ago when he woke up and all but shoved me aside trying to find you.”

Sehun bustled about the room, opening drapes to let light in.

“Honestly, for all its beauty young love is a pain. You two will be able to reunite tomorrow before Crown Prince Yifan’s coronation. In the meantime, I need you,” Sehun jabbed his bony finger in Jongin’s direction as he moved to the door, “to rest. Please. Stay put.”

Sehun waved two fingers towards his eyes and pointed one back at Jongin, a silent “I’m watching you” and Jongin nodded obediently. As soon as the green doctor shut the door, however, he flopped back in bed and thought as hard as he could about Baekhyun. Twice now he’d teleported to Chanyeol just by wanting to be there badly enough. He imagined holding Baekhyun’s hand, he imagined wrapping his best friend in a warm hug, he imagined Tao there too.

“Ahhh!”

Jongin opened his eyes. He was still in bed, but this time he was in Baekhyun’s bedroom, snug between him and Tao. He grinned at Tao’s terrified face as Baekhyun flipped on the light.

“Hi, guys!”

Three hours later the friends sat in Baekhyun’s living room, cold cups of untouched tea around them. Baekhyun and Tao took turns explaining how they moved from safe house to safe house until the last of the terror group on Earth had been rounded up and arrested, and then Jongin had shared everything that had happened to him since the three had split up.

“Wow,” said Tao, “that’s entirely insane. How has your power gotten so strong?”

“Actually,” Jongin started shyly, and uncharacteristic blush on his face, “part of it was because Chanyeol was there, and he just makes me better.”

“You are absolutely, disgustingly in love and it is the best thing I have ever seen,” Baekhyun interrupted to say, Tao nodding beside him in enthusiastic awe.

Jongin only swatted at both of them, strength still low.

“But all those times I was headed to a place I’d seen before. Me getting us to Vangelion surface, and getting myself to you guys without knowing where you were,” Jongin inhaled before sighing out, “I think that extra power was something I always had, and it came back when I regained my memories.”

“You what?!”

“Shit Jongin, what do you remember?”

“Everything. I remember my childhood on Vangel, as well as anyone else remembers their early years, and I remember that month I lost. I think when the guy who put the spell on me died the block holding back my memories broke.”

Tao and Baekhyun let out a loud cheer.

“That’s fucking great, man!”

“Thanks Tao. But I was wondering… do you guys think I should tell Chanyeol?”

“Kim Jongin,” Baekhyun deadpanned, “why would you not?”

“I don’t know.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Just, he’s loved me in some way or form most of his life. He knows he wants me. I, on the other hand… this was confusing enough when I only had a month’s worth of feelings for him to sort through, after we left you guys. You add in all the near-death experience, and of course I’m going to feel connected to him. Now I’ve got childhood feelings on top of the month on Earth’s feelings, on top of the month we spent being hunted’s feelings, on top of almost dying together.

I really feel like I should be with Chanyeol, but how can I be sure? I don’t want to get his hopes up, that I’ve got my memory back and everything’s going to be smooth sailing here on out.”

“I understand,” Tao started slowly, “but if we consider the month Chanyeol lied to us, he couldn’t have lied if he thought you were going to remember and rat him out. He was fully prepared to start over from the beginning and get to know you and go from there. I don’t think he’s gonna push you to do anything based on what you do or don’t remember. As long as you’re honest and straightforward, I think Chanyeol will be okay.”

Baekhyun hummed his agreement and added on, “And one day, a little down the road, I think you’re gonna realize that you really do like Chanyeol for who he is now, and not because of adrenaline or long lost memories. And when you do, everything is going to continue on just fine.”

“Thanks you guys, really. Now, I should probably head back to Vangel before Chanyeol notices I’m missing and tears apart the castle stone by stone.” Jongin stood and stretched with a laugh. “Do you two want to come along?”

Baekhyun eyed him warily.

“Can you move three people across the galaxy?”

“Of course. I’m serious; don’t underestimate how crazy my powers can get when it comes to taking me to wherever Chanyeol is.”

“Then I am totally down,” Tao exclaimed. “That man owes me an audience and a grant for clothing anthropology.”

The three settled back in to bed, Jongin in the center. He clasped both of their hands in his, closed eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled Chanyeol’s name. He opened his eyes again to see Chanyeol struggling wildly in the bed Jongin had been in, trying his best to push past Sehun and another shorter man.

“Sehun, Jongdae let me up! I have to find Jongin, where is he!”

“I’m, uh, behind you.”

The three Vangelions struggling against the fluffy sheets all froze, turning to look back a Jongin in sync. It creeped him out a bit, and he raised Baekhyun and Tao’s hands in the air, shaking their arms.

“Hey, I’m back. And I brought guests!”

╔╗

Yifan’s coronation was a huge success. Gongyoo had given a beautiful speech before stepping down to turn the throne over to his eldest son, and the people had received him well. As his first act as King, Yifan had presented Chanyeol to the people as their new General Supreme, to the great joy of everyone. A bard entered the hall and sang to all those present the story of how the Warrior Phoenix Prince battled rogue anarchists one Earth, and then again in the sky, of how his turning of those two Moments rebalanced the cosmos and undid the Greater Evil of the late Queen and General Supreme’s deaths. The night had passed with drinking and singing and dancing and eating. Yifan was in deep conversation with Tao, going through the practicalities of a clothing anthropological committee. Baekhyun and Jongdae had become fast friends, tossing insults back and forth as quickly as they passed the wine. Jongin was content, and only grew happier when he felt strong arms wrap around his middle from behind. He leaned back into Chanyeol’s embrace and let himself be rocked.

“Good evening, General Supreme.”

“Good evening, Diplomat Kim.”

Jongin twisted around to glare at the title.

“Hey, you graduated. You are a fully certified diplomat of the Empire.”

“And who officially appointed me to work?”

“I’m not sure its official yet, but I heard that new General Supreme guy wanted to put you as supervisor of that anthropology team King Yifan proposed.”

“Is this favoritism?”

“No, it’s giving the job to the qualified candidate I trust the most.”

Jongin snorted and pulled away.

“Whatever. I’m going up to my bedroom.”

Chanyeol watched Jongin walk in the opposite direction of the room Sehun had assigned him in amusement.

“Diplomat, you’re headed the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not,” Jongin looked back over his shoulder. “I’m not going to the room Sehun picked for me, I’m going to the room my parents picked for me. The one across from yours; what were you thinking letting Sehun put the shadow so far away from its firebird?”

The air crackled once, twice, and then Jongin was gone. Chanyeol watched the light in the room next to his own come on in awe. Jongin remembered. A form darkened Jongin’s window, and Chanyeol scrubbed the tears out of his eyes.

_I know you can hear me thinking._

Jongin grinned where he leaned against the window sill. Chanyeol couldn’t see it but he knew those eyes were liquid warmth, wet and brown.

_Yeah, I hear you Nini._

_Well._ Jongin cocked his head to the side. _Are you gonna come up here and welcome me back properly, or should I just go to sleep?_ Jongin turned away from the window as if he was going to get in the bed.

Chanyeol turned and ran into the castle, across the keep and up the wide stone stairs to the tallest tower, sure footed after years of training to be a warrior. His heart pounded in his ears in time with his footfalls, and it sounded just like coming home.


End file.
